^^  OF  PRIWf^ 


s^COtOeiCAlSEtf^ 


THE 


SONa  OF  SONGS: 


AN 


EXPOSITION  OF  THE  SONG  OF  SOLOMON 


BY  THE     »     / 

REV.   A.   MOODY   STUART, 

0:;vE   OF   THE   MI^^STEES   OF   THE   FREE   CHURCH   OF   SCOTLAND, 
EDINBURGH. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

WM.  S.  RENTOUL,  421  WALNUT  STREET. 

1869 


OF  THE  PUBLISHER  OF  THIS  EDITION. 


The  Publisher  of  this  first  American  edition  of  Rev.  A. 
Moody  Stuart's  excellent  Commentary  on  The  Sojsa  of  Solo- 
mon, has  much  pleasure  in  presenting  it  to  American  Christians, 
Commendation  of  it  is  almost  superfluous;  it  requires  only  to 
be  attentively  read  to  be  appreciated! 

But  since,  in  these  times  of  restless  activity  in  publication 
of  all  sorts  of  books,  those  of  more  weight  and  permanent 
utility  are  too  apt  to  be  overshadowed,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
introduce  this  solid  and  enduring  work,  by  presenting  some 
testimonials  of  its  superior  merits,  emanating  from  high  au- 
thorities. 

A  Scottish  Magazine  says  of  it: — 'This  elaborate,  eminently 
spiritual,  and  exhaustive  work,  forms  now  the  great  Commen- 
tary on  the  Song  of  Songs.  If  our  readers  know  what  Leighton 
has  done  for  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter,  and  what  the  Rev. 
Andrew  Bonar  has  done  for  the  book  of  Leviticus,  they  will 
understand  us  when  we  say  that  Mr.  Moody  Stuart  has  done 
a  similar  service  for  the  book  of  Canficles.  He  has  so  ex- 
pounded it,  that  no  man  of  sense,  learning,  and  spirituality 
of  mind,  would,  during  the  present  generation  at  least,  think 
of  writing  and  publishing  another  Commentary  upon  it.     The 

work  is  thoroughly  and  therefore  conclusively  done;  and  the 
III 


IV  rUBLISHER'S     PREFACE. 

only  things  now  necessaiy  to  be  done  by  all  wise  ministers  of 
Christ  who  can  spare  the  price,  and  all  Christians  generally, 
is  to  transfer  it  to  their  libraries  as  the  standard  work  on  that 
particular  subject,  and  read  it  with  an  earnest  desire  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  may  transcribe  its  holy  and  heavenly  truths  into 
their  souls.' 

Eev.  Dr.  Jacobus  (author  of '  Notes  on  the  Gospels  and  Acts,' 
&c.)  says  of  it: — 'I  regard  Stuart's  Exposition  as  a  very  in- 
2;enious  and  interestius:  comment  on  The  Soxg,  susrsrestin"- 
the  Gospel  interpretation  throughout,  quite  beyond  what  most 
would  find  in  it,  and  what  many  would  admit,  but  always  in 
a  way  fully  appreciating  the  evangelical  aim  of  the  Song,' 

Rev.  Dr.  Paxton  of*New  York  also  writes  to  the  Publisher : — 
'  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  about  to  republish  Rev.  A. 
Moody  Stuart's  Commentary  upon  The  Song  of  Solomox. 
I  have  been  familiar  with  this  work  for  a  number  of  years  and 
esteem  it  very  highly.  I  have  five  or  six  other  commentaries 
upon  "The  Song"  in  my  library,  but  for  all  the  practical  pur- 
poses of  the  ministry  I  find  this  to  be  the  best.' 

The  new  Metrical  version  of  The  Soxg,  which  will  be  ibund 
at  the  close  of  the  volume,  and  which  was  composed  expressly 
for  this  edition  of  Mr.  Stuart's  work,  will,  it  is  hoped,  give 
added  interest  and  value  to  it. 

The  Publisher  humbly  trusts  that  the  publication  of  this 
work  in  this  country,  together  with  the  other  valuable  works 
of  his  series  o^ Special  Expositions  of  Books  of  Scripture,  will 
conduce,  through  the  divine  blessing,  to  give  increased  breadth, 
intelligence,  and  spiritual  tone  to  the  American  pulpit,  and 
American  Christians. 

Philadelphia, 

3Iay,  1869. 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PREFACE. 

To  set  forth  the  Word  of  God  in  such  expositions  as  these 
i»  to  present  the  pure  w'nie  of  heaven,  not  in  golden  goblets 
of  answerable  purity,  but  in  clay  vessels  of  the  potter  with 
notable  contrast.  But  if  the  Lord  shall  stoop  to  take  the 
earthen  cup  into  his  own  hand,  and  out  of  it  shall  give  one  of 
his  little  ones  to  drink  of  the  brio-ht  wine  of  the  kini>;doni, 
we  have  our  reward,  and  shall  consent  meanwhile  to  the  hum- 
bling scrutiny  of  our  coarse  handiwork. 

We  are  deeply  and  increasingly  sensible  of  the  imperfection 
of  our  work,  and  have  earnestly  desired  another  year  toward 
the  removal  of  faults  and  the  supply  of  defects.  But  amidst 
the  pressing  duties  of  a  joyful  but  lal)orious  calling,  to  defer 
would  have  been  to  lay  aside  and  probably  never  to  resume. 
Other  authors  plead  only  their  avocations;  if  the  old  homely 
word  is  inserted  in  the  manuscript,  the  very  types  return  it 
with  the  wanting  letter  supplied;  but  the  plea  of  the  minister 
of  the  Gospel  still  is  his  vocation,  the  Immediate  duties  of 
which  leave  him  little  leisure  for  other  works  however  im- 
portant. 

For  the  sake  of  readers  to  whom  the  author  may  be  an  en- 
tire sfranger,  and  lest  any  of  them  should  conceive  that  the 
subject  has  been  embraced  through  the  ardour  of  youth,  he 
thinks  it  not  irrelevant  to  state  that  he  had  been  a  minister  of 
the  word  for  nearly  twenty  years,  before  he  ventured  to  select 
V 


VI  author's   preface. 

a  single  text  from  these  mysterious  communings  between  the 
Lord  and  his  people;  and  that  when  his  friend  Mr.  M'Cheyne, 
with  his  own  singular  unction  and  sweetness,  was  often  preach- 
ing in  his  pulpit  from  the  Song  of  Solomon,  he  was  standing 
meanwhile  in  what  the  Jews  termed  the  Outer  Court  of  the 
Temple,  and  lecturing  through  the  book  of  Proverbs. 

This  volume  we  now  commit  to  Him  in  whose  hands  *  are 
the  righteous,  and  the  wise,  and  their  works' — not  as  if  it 
could  be  numbered  with  those  works,  but  with  the  humble 
petition  that  it  may  be  received  into  the  hands  which  hold  the 
recorded  thoughts  of  all  the  children  of  men  who  have  been 
taught  of  God ;  and  thus  committing  it,  we  would  leave  it 
there,  saying,  'It  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  let  him  do  with 
it  what  seemeth  to  Him  good.' 

Edinburgh,  April  20,  1857. 


CONTENTS, 

PART  I. 

CH^iEACTER  AND  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  SONG. 
I. 

Character  of  the  Song  of  Songs. 

PAGE 

A  pure  Allegory — With  no  reference  to  Pharaoh's  daughter  or  any 
Bride  of  Solomon — Rightly  interpreted  by  the  Fathers — Having 
the  whole  Bible  for  its  Key,  .  .  .  .  .        ^ 

11. 

Solomon's  Fitness  for  the  Work. 

His  Knowledge  of  Nature,  of  Divine  Mysteries,  of  Parables — The 
Song  probably  his  earliest  Work,  .  ,  .        14 

III. 

The  Song  in  its  Unity  and  in  its  several  Canticles. 

Solomon's  Thousand  Songs  and  Five — The  Song  of  Songs  shown 
from  its  contents,  and  by  the  concurrence  of  Critics,  to  consist  of 
Five  Songs  in  One,  ......         21 

IV. 

Received  References  in  the  Song  presenting  a  Definite 

Historic  Outline. 

The  Cry  for  the  Advent— The  Last  Supper— The  Calling  of  the 
Gentiles — An  Outline  that  may  be  filled,  .  .  .29 

VJI 

% 


VIII  CONTENTS. 


V. 

PAGE 

Summary  of  the  Soxg. 

Cant.  I.  The  Bride  Seeking  ami  Finding  tlie  King. — Cant.  ii.  Tlio 
Sleeping  Bride  Awakened. — Cant.  hi.  The  Bridegroom  with  the 
Bride. — Cant.  iv.  The  Bridegroom's  withdrawal  and  reappear- 
ance, and  the  Bride's  Glory. — Cant.  y.  The  Little  Sister,        .        3'» 

VI. 

Historical  Illustration. 

Cant.  i.  Immediately  before  and  after  the  Birth  of  Christ. — Cant. 
II.  From  the  appearance  of  John  till  the  Baptism  of  Jesus. — 
Cant,  hi.  From  Christ's  return  out  of  the  Wilderness  till  the 
Last  Supper. — Cant.  iv.  From  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  till  the 
Evangelizing  of  the  Samaritans. — Cant.  v.  From  the  Calling  of 
the  Gentiles  till  the  Close  of  Eevelation,  .  .  .49 

VII. 

The  Song  Compared  with  Texts  from  the  Gospels  and 
Acts  in  Parallel  Pages,         .          .  .  .  .67 


PART  II. 

PRACTICAL  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  SONG. 

I. 

The  Anointed  King. 

Chap.  1. 2-4. — His  kiss— hi?  love — his  name— his  chambers,      95 

II. 

The  Bride's  Portrait  of  Herself. 

Chap.  i.  5,  6.— The  tents  of  kedar,  and  curtains  of  Solo- 
mon— THE  SUN- burnt  SLAVE-GIRL,  .  .  .  HI 


CONTENTS.  IX 

III. 

PAGB 

The  Shepherd  whom  the  Soul  Loveth. 

Chap.  i.  7,  8.— His  pasture  and  koontide  rest— the  foot- 
steps OF  the  flock  axd  feeding-place  of  the  kids,    .      121 

IV. 

Chap.  i.  9-11. — The  chariots  of  pharaoh — the  chains  of 

GOLD — THE   BExVUTIFUL   CROWN,  .  .  ,  133 

V. 

Chap.  i.  12-14.— The  spikenard  at  the  feast— the  myrrh 

IN   the   bosom — THE   CAMPHIRE   IN   THE   VINEYARD,  .  144 

VI. 

Chap.  i.  15-17.— The  green  couch  of  the  shepherd  king,    153 

VII. 

Chap.  ii.  1-3. — The  rose  of  sharon— the  lily  among  thorns 
— the  apple-tree  in  the  wood,        ,        .  .  .        161 

VIII. 

The  Banquet-Hall. 
Chap.  ii.  4-7.— The  banner  of  love— the  banquet. of  wine 

— the  hands  of  the  king — THE   HINDS  OF  THE  FIELD,  172 

IX. 

Chap.  ii.  8,  9. — The  roe  upon  the  mountains— the  glimpse 

THROUGH  the   LATTICE,  .....  187 

X. 

Chap.  ii.  10-13. — The  garden  of  flowers — the  song  of  birds 

— the   VOICE   OF  the   TURTLE,  .  .  .  .195 


CONTENTS. 


XI. 


PAGE 

Chap,  ii,  14,  15. — The  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the  eock — the 

FOXES  that  spoil  THE  VINES,  ....  205 

XII. 

The  Night  before  Daybreak. 

Chap.  ii.  16,  17 ;  iii.  1-5.— The  bride's  interest  in  her  ab- 
sent LORD — THE  BRIDE  LONGING  FOR  BREAK  OF  DAY — THE 
MIDNIGHT  SEARCH — THE   KING   CONDUCTED  HOME,      .  .  215 

XIII. 

The  Bridal  Procession. 

Chap.  hi.  6-11. — The  pillars  in  the  desert — the  angelic 
swordmen — the  king's  chariot — the  crown  of  espousal,  236 

XIV. 

Portrait  of  the  Bride  by  the  King. 
Chap.  iv.  1-7. — The  spotless  bride — the  doves'  eyes — the 

goats  on  the  mountain — THE  SHEEP  FROM  THE  RIVER — THE 
SCARLET  FILLET — THE  BROKEN  POMEGRANATE — THE  TOWER 
OF   ARMOURY — THE   TWIN  ROES,  .  .  .  <,  263 

XV. 

The  Bridal  Evening. 

Chap.  iv.  8-v.  1. — The  bridegroom's  farewell — the  garden 
of  spices — the  spices  of  the  garden — the  betrothing 

SUPPER,  .......  282 

XVI. 

The  Night  after  Sunset. 

Chap.  v.  2-8. — The  waking  sleep — the  sorrowing  search 
for  the  king,  ......         309 


CONTENTS.  XI 

XVIJ. 

The  Beauty  of  the  Beloved. 

PAGE 

Chap.  v.  9-16. — The  white  and  ked — the  chieftainship — 

THE  MOST  FIIfE  GOLD— THE  RAVEBT'S  PLUMES— THE  DOVES  BY 
THE  WATERS — THE  AROMATIC  FLOWERS — THE  LILIES— THE 
GOLD  RINGS— THE  BRIGHT  IVORY— THE  MARBLE  PILLARS- 
LEBANON  AND  ITS  CEDARS— THE  SWEETNESS — AND  ENTIRE 
LOVELINESS,         .......  326 

XVIII. 

The  Bridegroom's  Brief  Return 
Chap.  vi.  I-IO.— The  morning  twilight— last  portrait  of 

THE   BRIDE   BY   THE    KING— THE    BRIDE'S    PORTRAIT    BY    THE 

QUEENS,  .......  3G8 

XIX. 

Chap.  vi.  11-13.— The  garden  of  nuts— the  chariots  of 

AMMI-NADIB— THE   TWO   ARMIES,  ....  396 

XX. 

Portrait  of  the  Prince's  Daughter  by  the  Daughters 
OF  Jerusalem. 

Chap.  vii.  1-5.— The  beautiful  shoes— the  well-set  jew- 
els—the goblet  not  wanting  wine— the  wheat  railed 
with  lilies— the  twin  roes— the  tower  of  ivory— the 

fish-pools  of  HESHBON— the  tower  of  LEBANON— CARMEL 
—THE   PURPLE— THE   GALLERIES,  ....  407 

XXI. 

The  Betrothing  of  Jerusalem's  Daughters. 
Chap.  vii.  S-iO.— The  palm-tree— the  wine  that  awakes 

THE  SLEEIiNG- THE  SEAL  OF  ESPOUSAL,  .  .  .431 

XXII. 

Chap.  vn.  11-13;  viii.  1-4.— The  garden  in  the  fields— the 

VERY   BROTHER,  ••....  446 


XII  CONTENTS. 

XXIII. 

DiviKE  Love 

PAGE 

Chap.  vm.  5-7. — Its  relying  weakness — its  signet-like  ad- 
hesion— its  death-like  strength  and  grave-like  cruel- 
ty— its  vehement  flame  and  quenchless  fire — its  price- 
less WORTH,        .......  4G0 

XXIV. 

The  Closing  Song. 
Chap.  vni.  8-14. — The  little  sister — the  transference  of 

THE  vineyard — THE  LAST  OF  THE  FOUR  MOUNTAINS,  .  477 


Notes,       ........       497 

Notice  of  Authors  on  the  Song  op  Solomon — Ancient — 
Modern— Metrical,  .....       507 


A  New  Metrical  Version  of  THE  SONG. 


PART  I. 

CHARACTER   AND    STRUCTURE 

OF  THE  SONG. 


Oh  that  I  knew  how  all  thy  lights  comhiue, 
And  the  configurations  of  their  glorie; 

Seeing  not  only  how  each  verse  doth  shine, 
But  all  the  constellations  of  the  storie. 

Herbert. 


THE  SONG  OF  SOLOMON. 


I. 

THE  SONG  OF  SONGS— CHARACTER  OF  THE  BOOK. 

The  Song  of  songs,  wliicli  is  Solomon's. — Chap.  i.  1. 

The  Song  of  Songs  is  Solomon's,  as  composed  by  the  wisest 
of  men,  under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  Solomon's 
also  as  composed  concerning  the  true  Solomon  the  Prince  ol 
Peace,  of  whom  the  son  of  David  was  an  eminent  type.  It 
belongs  to  the  earthly  Solomon,  as  the  skilful  work  of  his 
hands;  to  the  heavenly  Solomon,  as  the  utterance  of  his  heart 
to  the  Church,  and  of  the  heart  of  the  Church  toward  him. 
'The  Song  of  Songs  of  Solomon'  would  nearly  express  both  the 
ambiguity  and  the  fulness  of  the  original,  and  might  with  us 
be  interpreted,  either  by  Solomon  or  concerning  him;  and  in 
a  hieroglyphic  book,  every  word  of  which  is  an  earthly  sym- 
bol with  a  heavenly  meaning,  it  is  altogether  probable  that  the 
title  itself  has  a  double  significance,  and  has  been  so  framed 
as  to  intimate  that  the  Song  is  of,  or  by,  the  earthly  Solomon 
as  its  author,  and  of,  or  concerning,  the  heavenly  Solomon  as  its 
subject. 

It  is  the  Song  of  Songs  as  the  choicest  both  of  all  the  songs 
of  the  sons  of  men,  and  of  all  that  Solomon  sung ;  the  chief  of 
his  thousand  songs  and  five;  the  sweetest,  the  simplest,  the 
highest,  the  deepest  of  the  songs  of  the  Church  in  the  house 
of  her  pilgrimage;  above  all  others  her  song  in  the  night,  until 
the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away.  'For  this  reason, 
also,'  said  one  who  knew  it  well,  '  would  I  call  it  the  Song  of 
A 


4  THE   SONG   OF   SONGS. 

Songs,  because  other  songs  must  be  sung  first,  and  this  as  the 
fruit  of  all  the  rest;  grace  alone  teaches  it;  experience  alone 
can  learn  it.'     (Bernard.) 

Bride  of  the  Lamb,  the  song  is  thine;  for  if  anywhere  in  the 
oracles  of  truth  is  found  the  new  song,  which  no  man  can  learn 
but  they  who  are  redeemed  from  the  earth,  and  which  is  sung 
by  none  but  the  virgins  who  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever 
he  goeth,  it  must  consist  in  part  of  this  same  song  of  Solomon. 
Emphatically  this  is  a  song  which  the  men  of  earth  can  never 
learn ;  like  Christ  himself,  to  one  it  is  a  stumbling-block,  to 
another  foolishness;  but  by  this  very  token  dost  thou  recognise 
the  word  and  image  of  thy  Lord,  and  bind  the  book  about 
thee  as  a  crown,  glorying  in  the  reproach  of  the  cross. 

If  thy  pleasure  be 
In  sacred  song  and  sweet  soliloquy, 
Thou  that  art  troth-iDlight  with  the  endlesse  ring 

Of  lasting  love  unto  the  Heir  of  heaven, 
And  hast  received  thy  wedding-robes,  may  sing 
The  Song  of  Songs — to  thee  alone  'tis  given. 

Troth-plight  Spouse. 

Before  attempting,  however,  to  unveil  its  mysteries,  let  us 
briefly  consider  the  Character  of  the  Book  in  itself,  in  its  re- 
ception by  the  Church,  and  in  its  relation  to  the  other  Scrip- 
tures; and  first, 

The  Character  of  the  Booh  in  itself.  'If  a  fact  can  be  es- 
tablished by  testimony,'  to  quote  the  words  of  another,  'it  is 
established  by  testimony,  that  the  Song  of  Solomon  was  a  part 
of  the  Hebrew  canon  in  the  time  of  Christ.'  (Prof  Stowe.)  It 
forms  an  unquestionable  portion  of  those  ancient  oracles,  to 
wdiich  our  Lord  set  his  divine  seal,  when  he  issued  the  com- 
mand, 'Search  the  Scriptures;  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  have 
eternal  life,  and  they  arc  they  which  testify  of  me.'  But  the 
Song  itself,  if  it  bear  any  testimony  at  all  to  Jesus,  must  be 
an  allegory  throughout;  and,  resting  on  wdiatever  ground  of 
earthly  imagery,  the  allegorical  meamng  must  be  regarded, 
not  only  as  containing  its  principal  use,  but  as  forming  its 
primary,  and  we  doubt  not  its  exclusive  design. 

An  earthly  imagery  constitutes  the  basis  of  the  spiritual 


A   PURE   ALLEGOEV.  5 

allegory,  but  certainly  not  an  earthly  history.  Pharaoh's 
daughter  has,  indeed,  been  regarded  by  many  as  the  outward 
type  under  which  the  Church  is  here  set  forth.  But  it  admits 
of  positive  demonstration,  that  this  Egyptian  princess  is  in  no 
sense  the  subject  of  this  song.  There  is  not  a  single  expression 
throughout  the  book  that  can  be  held  to  favor  the  supposition; 
for  the  solitary  allusion  to  Pharaoh's  chariots  (i.  9)  is  more 
suitable  for  Israel,  to  whom  those  gorgeous  equij^ages  formed 
a  well-known  subject  both  of  history  and  of  song,  than  for  the 
King  of  Egypt's  daughter,  who  was  familiar  with  them  as  an 
e very-day  sight  In  her  father's  court.  The  modern  critics  have 
expended  much  labor  and  learning  in  proving  by  classical 
analogies,  that  in  order  to  commend  his  bride  on  her  marriage 
day,  the  most  tasteful  of  kings  could  not  have  soared  higher 
than  to  compare  her  to  one  of  her  father's  carriage  horses. 
The  point  of  taste  we  leave  to  others  to  decide,  but  we  are 
thoroughly  persuaded  that  the  earlier  interpreters  were  right, 
when,  with  one  consent,  they  found  no  allusion  except  to  the 
Egyptian  host  at  the  Red  Sea.  Doubtless  it  is  to  the  hymn 
of  Moses,  to  the  timbrel  of  Miriam,  and  to  the  harp  of  David 
that  the  Song  of  Solomon  is  attuned,  when  Christ  employs  it 
to  address  his  Church, — 'I  have  comparepl  thee  O  my  love  to  a 
company  of  horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots.'  In  every  other 
passage  throughout  the  book,  all  that  could  be  intelligible  or 
interesting  to  a  princess  of  Egypt  is  avoided  as  completely  as 
if  by  solicitous  design.  The  book  abounds  in  local  references; 
mountains,  hills,  plains,  vineyards,  fish-ponds,  cities,  and  towers, 
are  specified  by  name;  and  not  one  of  them  all  lies  between 
Egypt  and  Jerusalem,  where  they  might  have  been  seen  or 
heard  of  by  the  bride  in  her  journey.  En-gedi,  which  she  is 
represented  as  acquainted  with,  is  on  the  border  of  the  Dead 
Sea,  far  out  of  the  Egyptian  route  (i.  14);  the  rest  are  all  north 
or  north-east  of  the  capital ;  many  of  them  are  beyond  the 
Jordan,  and  generally  they  are  at  the  greatest  possible  distance 
from  her  native  land.  There  were  fortified  border  cities,  such 
as  Gaza,  which  must  have  been  known  and  might  have  been 
seen  by  her,  and  would  have  afforded  images  as  suitable  as  the 
distant  and  disputed  tower  of  Lebanon  (vii.  4),     It  is  incon- 


6  THE   SONG   OF   SONGS. 

ceivable  that  so  great  a  master  of  acceptable  words  could  have 
souo-ht  to  gratify  Pharaoh's  daughter,  by  extolling  the  fish- 
pools  of  Hcshbon  in  the  fiir-off  tribe  of  Eeuben,  and  over- 
looking the  world-famed  waters  of  the  Nile  (vii.  4) — by  com- 
memorating the  remote  and  alien  Damascus,  and  omitting  the 
more  celebrated  and  not  more  idolatrous  Memphis  of  her 
fatherland  (vii.  4) — and  still  more,  by  representing  her  under 
the  garb  of  a  shepherdess,  when  Jew  and  Gentile  knew  that 
every  shepherd  was  an  abomination  to  the  Egyptians  (i.  7). 
These  circumstances  render  the  supposition  in  the  highest  degree 
improbable ;  others  render  it  impossible.  The  delicate  daughter 
of  the  haughty  Pharaoh,  for  whom  Solomon  built  a  sumptuous 
palace,  could  not  in  any  supposable  manner  have  ever  been  a 
sun-burnt  keeper  of  the  vineyards  (i.  6);  she  could  not  have 
been  unveiled  and  beaten  by  the  watchmen  of  Jerusalem  (v.  7); 
she  could  not  have  come  from  the  snowy  higlits  of  Lebanon, 
when  she  had  no  occasion  to  be  within  a  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  of  its  base  (iv.  8);  and  she  never  did  conduct  Solomon 
into  her  mother's  house  which  was  in  the  land  of  Egypt  (iii. 
4).  In  every  way,  the  marriage  of  Pharaoh's  daughter  neither 
was,  nor  could  be,  the  historical  or  typical  basis,  or  in  any 
sense  whatever  the  groundwork  of  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

The  place  of  this  Egyptian  princess  in  the  Song  having  been 
disproved,  we  shall  not  occupy  the  reader's  time  with  com- 
bating the  groundless  and  endless  fancies  that  have  competed 
for  the  filling  of  the  blank.  She  alone  has  an  eminent  position 
in  Scripture;  there  is  no  other  for  whom  any  historical  claim 
has  been  or  can  be  advanced;  and  if  she  is  not  the  subject  of 
the  Song,  much  less  can  any  other  imaginary  bride  be  so  re- 
garded. Many  of  the  objections  we  have  noted,  such  as  keeping 
the  vineyards  and  wandering  through  the  city  at  midnight, 
apply  equally  to  any  prince's  daughter  and  consort  of  the  king 
(vii.  1).  Then,  there  is  the  magnificence  of  all  the  comparisons, 
*  beautiful  as  Tirzah,  comely  as  Jerusalem,  terrible  as  an  army 
with  banners,'  so  widely  different  from  the  simplicity  of  Scrip- 
tural emblems  to  represent  objects  earthly  and  human,  as  in 
David's  lament  over  Saul  and  Jonathan,  where  the  most  in- 
tense emotion  still  pours  itself  forth  in  the  simplest  images, — 


HAS   NO   REFERENCE   TO    PHARAOH'S   DAUGHTER.  7 

'  they  were  swifter  than  eagles,  they  were  stronger  than  lions.' 
Further,  there  remains  the  extreme  improbability  of  the  wise 
Solomon  drawing  so  lofty  a  portrait  of  his  own  person,  and 
describing  himself,  even  in  the  most  subordinate  sense,  as  the 
'chief  among  ten  thousand  and  altogether  lovely.' 

The  truth  is,  that  the  Song  in  its  whole  conception  and 
structure  is  such  as  never  could  have  been  welcomed  or  tolerated- 
by  any  earthly  bride,  by  whomsoever  composed;  and  least  of 
all  if  written  for  her  by  her  own  consort.  With  the  exception 
of  the  fourth  chapter,  the  greater  part  of  it  is,  in  one  form  or 
other,  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  bride;  it  is  commenced  by  her, 
closed  by  her,  chiefly  conducted  by  her;  while  the  narrative 
throughout  is  put  into  her  lips,  never  into  the  lips  of  her  Be- 
trothed. Would  any  earthly  bridegroom  so  construct  a  song 
for  his  bride,  or  earthly  bride  receive  it  so  constructed?  Then, 
she  is  represented  as  now  self-condemning,  and  again  self-ex- 
cusing, but  as  uniformly  helpless,  reverent,  entreating;  while 
the  Bridegroom  is  always  full  of  majesty,  his  aifection  ever 
mingled  with  condescension,  frequently  he  is  reserved  and  dis- 
tant, sometimes  stern  and  severe.  All  this  is  intelligible  only  on 
the  supposition  that  the  Song  itself  was  never  in  any  form  de- 
signed for  scenes  of  earth ;  but,  under  an  earthly  veil,  to  shadow 
out  the  communion  of  the  ransomed  Church  and  her  glorious 
Redeemer. — But  let  us  look  now  at  the  character  of  the  book, 

As  received  by  the  Cliurch.  Truth  will  ever  assert  its  own 
supremacy  in  the  end.  The  Jews  revered  the  Song  of  Solo- 
mon as  amongst  the  holiest  of  sacred  books.  Likening  his 
works  with  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer  to  his  less  durable  fabric 
of  wood  and  stone,  they  compared  the  Proverbs  to  the  outer 
court  of  the  Temple,  Ecclesiastes  to  the  Holy  Place,  and  the 
Song  of  Songs  to  the  Holy  of  holies,  the  inmost  sanctuary  of 
God.  The  Chaldee  Targum,  which  is  the  oldest  Jewish  Com- 
mentary on  the  book,  entitles  it  'The  Songs  and  hymns  Avhich 
Solomon  the  prophet,  king  of  Israel,  delivered  by  the  spirit  of 
prophecy,  before  Jehovah  the  Lord  of  the  whole  earth ;'  and 
explains  it  throughout  as  a  divine  allegory,  representing  the 
dealings  of  God  with  his  people  Israel.  The  Christian  fathers 
compared  the  whole  teaching  of  Solomon  to  a  ladder  consist- 


8  THE   SONG    OF   SONGS. 

ing  of  three  steps,  moral,  natural,  mystical;  Proverbs  embracing 
instruction  in  morals;  Ecclesiastes  indicating  the  nature  of 
things  sensible,  and  the  vanity  of  the  present  life,  that  despising 
these  things  as  transient  we  may  desire  the  future  as  firm  and 
eternal ;  and  the  Song  of  Songs  containing  the  mystic  relation 
and  union  of  Christ  and  his  Church,  that  we  may  fly  upward 
to  the  great  Bridegroom  to  love  and  embrace  him  as  promising 
everlasting  blessedness.  (Origen,  Theodoret.)  Any  attempts 
either  amongst  the  Jews  or  Christians  to  attach  a  lower  sense 
to  this  divine  Song  were  extremely  few  and  quite  exceptional, 
serving  only  to  bring  out  more  clearly  the  general  and  all  but 
universal  judgment  for  the  allegorical  interpretation.  Tar  be 
it!  far  be  it!'  exclaims  one  of  the  Hebrew  doctors,  Hhat  the 
Song  of  Songs  should  treat  of  earthly  love;  for  had  it  not  been 
a  pure  allegory,  and  had  not  its  excellence  been  great,  it  would 
not  have  been  numbered  with  the  holy  books ;  nor  on  this  head 
is  there  any  controversy.' 

During  the  mists  that  preceded  the  dawn  of  the  Eeformation, 
these  divine  Canticles  must  have  been  songs  in  the  night  for 
weary  pilgrims,  as  is  testified  by  the  explanatory  headings 
which  interspersed  the  verses,  such  as — '  The  voice  of  the  Father, 
the  voice  of  Christ,  the  Church  saith  of  her  tribulations.'  And 
when  the  sun  was  rising  on  Britain,  and,  as  the  fruit  chiefly  of 
the  labors  of  the  noble  martyr  Tyndale,  '  The  Byble  truly  and 
purely  translated  into  Englysh'  was  presented  as  God's  best 
gift  to  this  country,  the  'Ballet  of  Ballettes'  stood  forth  distin- 
guished in  the  centre  of  the  noble  book.  The  rest  of  the  massive 
volume  is  printed  in  black  letter,  but  in  the  Song  of  Songs, 
dividing  its  passages  and  verses  and  sometimes  even  clauses, 
are  bright  lines  of  red  shining  between  the  black  and  shedding 
rays  of  spiritual  light — 'The  voyce  of  the  Patriarches  speakyng 
of  Christ,  the  voyce  of  the  Churche  chosen  out  of  the  heathen, 
the  voyce  of  the  Synagogue  marvellyngin  itselfe  at  the  Churche.' 
In  our  own  Scottish  land  more  than  a  century  later,  when  the 
clouds  returned  after  the  rain,  and  the  Church  betook  her- 
self like  a  bird  to  the  mountains,  the  dove  plucked  this  page 
of  holy  writ  as  an  olive  leaf  in  her  mouth,  and  bore  it  to  her 
hiding-place  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock.     As  our  covenanting 


EIGHTLY   IXTEEPEKTED    BY   THE   EEFOEMEES.  9 

fathers  threaded  their  bloodstained  path  through  the  mysteries 
and  cruelties  of  a  thinly  disguised  Anti-christ,  the  beaten  oil 
from  the  Isle  of  Patmos  fed  the  lamp  that  lighted  their  mid- 
night way,  and  the  Song  of  Songs  supplied  their  holy  hymns 
of  praise — the  sweet  utterance  of  their  Bridegroom's  voice  and 
their  own  responsive  echoes  (viii.  6).  Meanwhile,  quickly 
following  the  light  of  the  Reformation  and  the  diffusion  of  the 
word  of  God,  not  a  few  devoted  ministers  of  Christ  expounded 
this  Song  of  Solomon  from  the  pulpit  and  the  press,  and  dug 
from  its  deep  mines  the  richest  treasures  of  Gospel  truth,  to 
the  great  comfort  and  edification  of  the  Church.  Metrical 
translations,  also,  and  paraphrases  were  prepared  by  eminent 
divines,  eagerly  welcomed  by  the  people,  and  circulated  in 
great  numbers;  and  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb  rejoiced  that  in 
these  holy  Canticles  she  could  with  understanding  'sing  to  her 
well-beloved  a  song  of  her  Beloved  touching  his  vineyard.' 

But  the  gold  did  not  lack  its  alloy,  for,  in  the  course  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  some  theologians,  distinguished  by  talent 
more  than  by  spiritual  discernment  or  soundness  in  the  faith, 
advanced  and  eloquently  illustrated  the  theory  of  a  double  in- 
terpretation, expounding  the  book  throughout,  both  of  Solomon 
and  Pharaoh's  daughter,  and  of  Christ  and  the  Church.  In 
the  early  interpreters,  Jewish  and  Christian,  Greek  and  Latin, 
Pharaoh's  daughter  has  no  place  whatever ;  and  although  she 
is  introduced  in  some  of  the  first  English  Bibles,  no  more  seems 
to  have  been  intended  than  what  all  allow  as  a  ground-work 
of  earthly  imagery,  for  without  further  reference  to  her  the 
interpretation  is  purely  spiritual.  The  Great  Bible  retains  the 
simple  idea  of  the  'Mysticall  Songe,'  but  in  Taverner's  is  added, 
*  Solomon  made  this  Ballate  or  Songe  to  himselfe  and  his  wyfe  the 
daughter  of  Pharao,  under  the  shadowe  of  himselfe  figuring 
Chryste,  and  under  the  person  of  his  wyfe  the  Church;'  while 
on  the  contrary  old  Dudley  Fenner  stoutly  asserts  that  it  was 
'  not  of  Pharaoh's  daughter  or  any  queen  of  Solomon's.'  But 
the  idea  of  an  outward  or  historical  basis  which  had  either  not 
been  entertained  at  all,  or  entertained  as  if  not  at  all,  was  in 
the  next  century  brought  forward  and  advanced  with  all  the 
beauties  of  eloquence,  though  not  without  a  decided  protest  by 


10  THE  SOKG   OF   SONGS. 

the  leading  orthodox  divines.  Solomon's  Bride,  thus  conjoined 
with  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb,  was  in  process  of  time  promoted 
to  the  exclusive  occupation  of  the  throne;  for  thereafter  fol- 
lowed that  dark  and  cloudy  day  in  the  latter  half  of  the  past 
century,  when  here,  as  everywhere,  the  blind  leaders  of  the 
blind  were  stumbling  into  the  ditch  of  their  own  delusions — 
divines  abroad  denying,  and  divines  at  home  forgetting,  any 
other  sense  of  the  Song  save  the  literal. 

Hating  the  light  from  above,  they  set  themselves  like  moles 
to  burrow  under  ground,  and  to  fashion  an  earthly  passage  for 
the  free  progress  of  this  mystic  song.  The  first  insuperable 
difficulty,  a  stone  too  heavy  for  their  strength,  drives  them  to 
conjure  up  a  fictitious  person  who  straightway  removes  it  for 
them;  the  next,  a  rock  which  they  can  neither  pierce  nor  dis- 
place, forces  them  to  create  an  imaginary  scene  around  it,  and 
the  difficulty  dissolves.  But  both  these  expedients  fail  them 
at  last,  and  then  their  never-failing  resource  is  in  dreams  which 
they  multiply  according  to  their  own  fancy,  till  they  occupy  a 
large  portion  of  the  book — meanwhile  they  are  continually 
denouncing  and  triumphing  over  the  wildness  of  allegory. 
Those  foolish  laborers  in  the  vineyard  passed  away,  but  the 
dregs  of  the  poisoned  cup  which  they  had  mingled,  having 
been  sipped  by  certain  good  men,  led  them  likewise  away  with 
the  error  of  the  ungodly.  These,  first  misinterpreting  the 
book,  proceeded  next  to  question  its  inspiration;  they  attached 
to  it  a  grovelling  and  unfounded  meaning,  and  then  said  that 
it  could  not  be  divine.  But  the  old  truth  abides  and  ever  re- 
turns again,  and  within  the  last  thirty  years  some  of  the  ablest 
of  the  biblical  critics  abroad  have  rejected  and  disproved  the 
fallacies  of  their  predecessors,  and  have  seen  and  shown  that 
this  Song  must  be  an  allegory,  a  pure  allegory  without  any 
historical  groundwork.  This,  we  doubt  not,  will  come  to  be 
universally  acknowledged ;  and  the  day  may  not  be  distant 
when  the  great  Bridegroom  of  the  Church  will  employ  this 
fflorious  Sono;  more  than  ever  heretofore,  for  the  maintenance 
and  the  expression  of  holy  fellowship  between  himself  and  his 
redeemed  from  among  the  sons  of  men. — Let  us  consider  now 
the  character  of  this  book, 


IN  UNISON   WITH   ALL   SCRIPTURE.  H 

In  relation  to  the  other  Scriptures.  Leaving  every  other  view, 
we  receive  and  interpret  the  Song  of  Solomon  as  not  less 
purely  figurative  than  if  God  announced  over  it  as  he  does 
elsewhere — 'I  have  likened  the  Daughter  of  Zion  to  a  comely 
and  delicate  woman.'  In  this  allegory,  Christ  is  set  forth  as 
the  Anointed,  for  'Ointment  poured  forth  is  his  name;'  as  the 
King,  a  title  which,  when  used  by  way  of  excellence,  Jews  as 
well  as  Christians  acknowledge  to  belong  to  the  Messiah ;  as 
Solomon,  the  Prince  of  peace ;  as  the  Beloved,  and  as  the  Chief 
among  ten  thousand,  altogether  lovely.  The  Church,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  described  as  the  Fairest  among  women,  the 
Prince's  daughter,  the  King's  sister,  the  King's  spouse,  and 
her  more  special  designation  is  the  Shulamite.  This  is  not 
her  own  original  name,  but  is  a  significant  appellation  suited 
for  an  allegory,  and  means  the  Peaceful;  for  Shulamith  or 
Shulamite  is  the  feminine  of  Solomon,  just  as  Joanna  is  of 
John ;  and  if  Solomon  the  Peaceful  may,  in  scriptural  expres- 
sion, be  translated  the  Prince  of  peace,  the  Shulamite  may  be 
rendered,  iu  like  manner,  the  Daughter  of  peace.  Figuratively 
interpreted,  the  structure  of  the  book  presents  no  difficulty,  for 
the  vinedresser  and  the  prince's  daughter,  the  midnight  in- 
quirer and  the  royal  consort,  the  supplicant  drenched  with 
night  dews  and  the  king  in  his  palace,  stand  in  the  most  per- 
fect congruity  to  the  relations  and  characters  of  Christ  and 
his  Church. 

jSTor  can  it  be  deemed  otherwise  than  most  accordant  with 
the  entire  scope  of  the  Word  of  God,  that  one  of  its  books 
should  be  thus  expressly  devoted  to  a  delineation  of  the  union 
and  intercourse  subsisting  between  Christ  and  his  redeemed, 
under  the  aspect  of  the  relation  formed  by  the  marriage  cove- 
nant amongst  men.  From  the  commencement  of  Genesis  to 
the  close  of  Revelation,  this  emblem  of  marriage  is  employed 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  shadow  forth  that  spiritual  mystery. 
In  Moses  it  is,  'Therefore  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  his 
mother  and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and  they  shall  be  one 
flesh,'  which  is  declared  in  the  New  Testament  to  be  'a  great 
mystery  concerning  Christ  and  the  Church;'  in  the  Psalms  it 
is,  '  Hearken  O  daughter  and  consider,  forget  also  thy  father's 


12  THE   SONG   OF   SONGS. 

house  and  thine  own  people,  so  shall  the  King  greatly  desire 
thy  beauty ;'  in  the  Prophets  it  is,  'Thy  maker  is  thine  husband/ 
and  'I  remember  thee,  the  kindness  of  thy  youth,  the  love  of 
thine  espousals ;'  in  the  Gospels  it  is,  '  He  that  hath  the  Bride 
is  the  Bridegroom,  but  the  friend  of  the  Bridegroom  which 
staixdeth  and  heareth  him  rejoiceth  greatly  because  of  the 
Bridegroom's  voice,'  and  '  How  can  the  children  of  the  bride- 
chamber  fast  while  the  Bridegroom  is  with  them?'  in  the  Epis- 
tles it  is,  'The  chaste  virgin  espoused  to  one  husband  even 
Christ,'  and  the  believer  '  married  unto  him  that  is  raised  from 
the  dead;'  and  in  Revelation  it  is,  'The  Bride  the  Lamb's  wife,' 
and  'the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come  and  his  wife  hath  made 
herself  ready.' 

If  it  be  objected  that  within  the  compass  of  the  book  itself 
there  is  no  key  to  the  spiritual  meaning,  there  is  the  ready 
answer  that  this  allegoric  song  is  only  part  of  a  book ;  that 
the  New  Testamenl;  itself  is  but  half  a  book  requiring  the  Old 
as  another  essential  half;  that  this  entire  song  is  no  more  than 
one  chapter  in  the  Word  of  God,  and  that  the  other  chapters 
furnish  keys  enough  to  open  all  its  locks.  'It  lies  in  the 
casket  of  revelation,  an  exquisite  gem,  engraved  with  em- 
blematic characters,  with  nothing  literal  thereon  to  break  the 
consistency  of  their  beauty.'  (Burrowes).  To  have  inserted  the 
solution  within  the  hieroglyphic  itself  would  have  been  to  mar 
all  its  symmetry,  because  it  is  not  written  in  the  form  of  a  parable 
spoken  by  another,  but  of  an  allegory  personating  the  speakers 
themselves.  The  writer  never  sp(3aks ;  it  never  is — 'ten  virgins 
took  their  lamps  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  Bridegroom ;'  but 
the  bridal  virgins  are  themselves  the  speakers — 'draw,  me  we 
wall  run  after  thee.'  This  accounts  also  for  the  designed  ab- 
sence of  the  name  of  God;  with  this  additional  argument,  that 
if  words  exclusively  religious  had  sometimes  been  introduced, 
the  hasty  inference  would  have  been  drawn  that  the  whole  of 
the  rest  was  earthly,  while  all  is  now  spiritual,  heavenly,  divine. 
Let  it  be  further  noted,  that  the  directness  of  the  allegorical 
form,  as  distinguished  from  the  narrative  style  of  a  parable, 
makes  the  greater  part  of  the  book  to  consist  of  immediate 
address  either  by  Christ  to  the  soul  or  by  the  soul  to  Christ, 


WITH   THE   WHOLE   BIBLE   FOR   ITS   KEY,  13 

and,  as  of  necessity,  moves  us  to  ponder  every  word,  and  '  suck 
honey  from  every  letter.' 

*  Oh  Book!  infinite  sweetnesse !  let  my  heart 

Suck  every  letter,  and  a  honey  gain, 
Precious  for  any  grief,  in  any  part ; 

To  cleare  the  breast,  to  mollifie  all  jjain. 

'Thou  art  joye's  handsell .  .  .  thou  art  a  masse 

Of  strange  delights  .  .  .  who  can  endeare 
Thy  praise  too  much?' 

Herbert. 


14  THE  SONG   OF  SOLOMON. 


II. 

THE  SONG  OF  SONGS— SOLOMON'S  FITNESS  FOR 
THE  WOEK. 

The  Song  which  is  Solomon's. — CHAr.  i.  1, 

Having  considered  the  character  of  the  book,  let  us  look 
next  at  the  writer's  peculiar  fitness  for  the  work  in  his  quali- 
fications, historical,  natural,  sjjiritual ;  in  the  years  he  had 
attained  when  he  sung  this  song ;  and  in  his  speaking  as  the 
Spirit  gave  hira  utterance. 

^God  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in 
times  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,'  has  chosen  his 
own  season  and  his  own  messenger,  giving  to  us  no  account  of 
his  matters ;  yet  both  in  the  time  and  in  the  writer,  as  well  as 
in  the  character  of  the  book,  we  may  humbly  recognise  the 
manifold  wisdom  of  God.  The  time  suited  the  manner  of  the 
revelation,  because  types  and  allegories  specially  belonged  to 
the  old  dispensation ;  and  that  dispensation  reached  its  ripe- 
ness in  the  days  of  Solomon,  when  the  temple  was  built,  when 
sacrifice  and  offering  and  burnt-offering  were  in  thousands  of 
rams  and  as  ten  thousand  rivers  of  oil,  when  the  glory  of  Je- 
hovah filled  the  house,  and  the  tabernacle  of  God  was  visibly 
and  gloriously  in  the  midst  of  men.  Previously,  the  daughter 
of  Zion  was  still  growing  into  maturity,  but  now  she  had 
reached  her  prime,  was  richly  endowed,  and  was  openly  mar- 
ried to  the  Lord  of  Hosts;  subsequently  the  prophets  with 
one  voice  testify  against  her  for  unfaithfulness  to  her  marriage 
covenant.  If  ever  in  all  her  history,  it  was  now  the  season 
for  such  a  song.  The  songs  of  the  law  and  the  prophets  were 
the  preparatory  lessons  of  her  infancy,  the  hymns  of  her  lovely 
childhood ;  but  the  last  and  crowning  song  of  all,  the  Song 
therefore  of  Songs,  was  prepared  for  the  now  mature  maiden 
against  the  day  of  her  marriage  to  the  King  of  kings.  (Origen). 


HIS   KNOWLEDGE   OF   ALL   NATURE.  15 

The  time  had  come,  and  also  the  man;  the  time  for  the 
nuptial  song  and  the  man  to  sing  it — Solomon  the  king  of 
peace,  Solomon  the  ripe  consummation  of  wisdom  human  and 
divine.  Judging  from  the  product,  it  had  been  the  will  of 
God  to  employ  the  utmost  knowledge  attained  by  man  of  v/hat 
was  fair  on  earth,  and  of  what  was  mysterious  in  heaven,  along 
with  the  deepest  skill  in  parabolic  imagery,  to  frame  this 
mystic  song  of  the  communings  of  the  great  Redeemer  with 
his  sister  Bride.  In  the  lowest  of  these  qualifications  Solomon 
liad  no  equal,  for  the  earthly  works  of  the  Lord  were  sought 
out  by  liim  from  the  cedar  in  Lebanon  to  the  hyssop  that 
springeth  out  of  the  wall;  and  none  knew  as  he  did  all  that 
was  pleasant  to  the  eye,  or  harmonious  to  the  ear,  or  fragrant 
to  the  scent,  or  delicious  to  the  taste  of  man.  In  the  words 
of  one  who  possessed  a  most  discriminating  eye  in  the  beauties 
of  graphic  delineation,  'This  entire  song  abounds  with  de- 
lightful objects:  on  every  side  are  flowers,  fruits,  and  a  pro- 
fusion of  the  loveliest  plants;  the  pleasantness  of  spring;  the 
luxuriance  of  the  fields;  flourishing  and  well-watered  gardens ; 
streams,  wells,  fountains;  odours  artificial  and  natural;  rock- 
pigeons,  songs  of  turtle-doves,  honey,  milk,  and  flowing  wines ; 
together  with  all  that  is  beautiful  and  graceful  in  the  human 
form.  If  any  object  of  horror  is  introduced,  such  as  rugged 
rocks,  wild  mountains,  and  lions'  dens,  the  whole  is  arranged 
to  produce  a  pleasing  effect,  and  as  if  for  the  ornament  and 
variety  of  a  most  beautiful  painting.  To  what  end  are  these 
things?  except  that  being  delighted  with  their  beauty,  we  may 
learn  how  much  more  beautiful  their  Lord  is  than  all  these, 
and  may  commence  the  song  of  divine  love.'  (Bossuet).  To 
draw  such  a  picture  Solomon  was  the  fittest  of  all  the  sons  of 
men. 

In  the  higher  qualifications  for  the  work  Solomon  equally 
excelled,  for,  above  all  the  proj^hets  preceding  or  following,  he 
was  enabled  to  discern  and  to  describe  the  eternal  Wisdom  or 
Word  of  God.  (Prov.  chap.  viii).  Of  the  man  of  sorrows 
Isaiah  wrote  the  obedience  unto  death  ;  but  to  Solomon  it  was 
given  to  speak  of  the  Lord  Jesus  with  the  Father  'as  one 
brought  up  with  him,  daily  his  delight,  and  rejoicing  always 


16  THE   SONG   OF   SOLOMON. 

before  him/  and  likewise  as  'rejoicing  in  the  habitable  parts 
of  the  earth,  and  his  delights  being  with  the  sons  of  men' — 
which  is  the  precise  theme  of  this  Song.  But  he  possessed  a 
third  preparation  for  the  holy  task,  in  which  none  ever  equalled 
him  save  the  Greater  than  Solomon,  who  in  his  parables,  as 
in  all  things  else,  spake  as  never  man  spake.  Of  his  Svisdom 
and  understanding  exceeding  much,  and  largeness  of  heart  even 
as  the  sand  that  is  on  the  sea  shore,'  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guishing features  was  the  power  of  clothing  spiritual  realities 
with  earthly  images;  and  this,  above  all  others,  was  the  faculty 
to  be  employed  in  composing  such  a  song.  '  To  understand  a 
parable  (Old  Bible)  and  the  interpretation,  the  words  of  the 
wise  and  their  dark  sayings,'  and  to  frame  such  parables  or 
proverbs  for  the  use  of  the  Church  in  all  ages,  was  peculiarly 
the  divine  vocation  of  Solomon  amongst  the  ancient  proj)hets, 
and  for  this  allegoric  song  such  was  the  very  gift  to  be  called 
into  exercise.  'Solomon  divinely  inspired  has  uttered  the 
praises  of  Christ  and  the  Church,  the  mysteries  of  their  eternal 
marriage,  and  the  longings  of  a  holy  soul ;  and,  exulting  in 
Spirit,  he  has  formed  these  things  into  a  pleasant  yet  figurative 
song.  Even  as  Moses,  so  hath  Christ  here  drawn  a  veil  over  his 
face,  which  might  else  have  shone  too  brightly,  because  in  that 
age  few  or  none  could,  with  face  unveiled,  look  upon  his 
glory.'    (Bernard). 

The  Song,  however,  was  not  the  work  of  Solomon  without 
preparatory  aid.  But  as  the  father  framed  the  plan  and 
gathered  the  materials  for  the  temple  which  the  son  was  to 
build;  so  the  father  in  the  seventy-second,  but  especially  in 
the  forty-fifth  of  Lis  Psalms,  sketched  the  outline  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  Song,  which  the  son  was  to  fashion  into  its 
goodly  fabric.  David  'the  sweet  psalmist  of  Israel'  sung 
psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs  of  most  heavenly  melody, 
but  his  calling  was  not  to  cast  divine  truth  into  the  form 
of  allegory.  Ezekiel,  after  the  interval  of  ages,  wove  lofty 
allegories,  but  into  the  writer's  inkhorn  by  his  side  the  golden 
vials  full  of  wrath  often  poured  their  fiery  stream ;  for  the  time 
of  singing  songs  was  past.  Solomon,  standing  between  the 
two,  united  both — elaborately  fashioned  an  allegoric  song;  sung 


HIS   EXCELLENCE   IN   PARABLE.  17 

an  allegory.  The  son  of  Jesse  breathed  the  longings  of  holy- 
desire,  '  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God/  and  tlie  fervour  of  divine 
affection,  '  I  love  the  Lord;'  and  rose  to  the  source  of  these  re- 
sponsive echoes  in  Jehovah's  free  love  to  men,  'Many  are  thy 
thoughts  to  US-ward,  they  are  more  than  can  be  numbered.' 
The  son  of  David,  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  took  hold  on  these 
two  golden  threads,  spun  them  with  singular  skill  so  as  to  de- 
velop both  their  strength  and  their  beauty  without  impairing 
eitlicr,  and  wove  them  into  this  wondrous  Song  of  Songs; 
which  is  nothing  else  than  the  interlacing  of  these  two  cords, 
the  one  drawn  from  heaven  downward,  and  the  other  drawn 
from  earth  upward — the  interlocution  of  these  two  hearts,  the 
human  and  the  divine. 

This,  then,  being  a  song  of  the  love  of  Christ  under  the  veil 
of  allegory,  we  must  take  heed  lest,  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  beauteous  veil,  we  should  for  a  moment  forget  him  whom  it 
both  manifests  and  conceals:  manifests,  because  without  it  we 
should  look  upon  a  blank;  conceals,  because  in  it  as  regards  the 
letter  we  see  but  an  outward  picture,  and  not  the  very  person 
of  Jesus.  'We  should  in  this  resemble  the  skilful  musician, 
and  touch  these  chords  lightly  with  the  finger,  only  to  elicit 
the  sweet  music  of  divine  love;  or  like  the  rocs  and  hinds  ot 
the  field  which  this  Song  commemorates,  we  should  scarcely 
tread  the  earth  with  our  feet,  and  only  for  the  purpose  of  spring- 
ing upward  toward  heaven.' 

'  So  by  the  aid  of  one  celestial  Guide 
Implored  and  rested  on,  not  safe  alone 
Those  precincts  will  appear,  but  rich  in  mines 
Of  pure  and  precious  gold.' 

Regarding:  the  time  in  Solomon's  life  when  he  wrote  this 
Song,  we  possess  no  materials  for  a  certain  conclusion,  yet  are 
not  without  rays  of  light.  That  it  was  the  work  of  his  old 
age  is  not  impossible  in  itself;  and  many  believers  to  whom  it 
has  formerly  presented  few  attractions  begin  in  the  decline  of 
years  to  find  great  delight  in  this  book,  even  as  'in  good  wine 
wliich  the  master  of  the  feast  has  kept  for  them  until  now;' 
wine  causing  the  lips  of  the  ancient  to  speak,  and  reviving 
them  for  the  later  stages  of  their  pilgrimage  (vii.  9.  marg.). 


18  THE   SONG    OF   SONGS. 

But  all  the  law  and  the  prophets  prove  that  it  is  contrary  to 
the  mind  of  God,  and  therefore  impossible,  that  open  defection 
in  high  places,  such  as  marked  the  declining  years  of  Solomon 
(however  penitent  for  his  own  personal  sins),  should  be  followed 
by  a  public  song  of  gladness.  During  the  sad  season  of  hisV 
follies  it  could  not  be  composed ;  and  advancing  toward  his 
earlier  years,  we  should  not  notice  the  argument  from  the 
*  tower  of  Lebanon,'  as  if  it  proved  the  song  to  have  been 
written  after  the  house  of  the  forest  of  Lebanon  was  built,  were 
it  not  so  often  adduced.  Allowing  that  house  to  have  been 
built  in  Mount  Lebanon,  as  well  as  of  its  cedars,  it  could  have 
no  connexion  with  the  watchtower  'looking  to  Damascus,'  be- 
cause the  last  spot  that  the  peaceful  king  would  choose  for  a 
summer  retreat  would  be  a  border  fortress  erected  against  a 
restless  foe  whose  king  'abhorred  Israel.'  On  the  contrary, 
the  song  appears  to  have  been  composed  before  the  building 
of  the  temple;  for  after  that  period,  and  even  earlier  but  with 
reference  to  it,  Jerusalem  stands  alone  in  the  land',  'Beautiful 
for  situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth,  the  city  of  the  great 
King.'  If  another  city  is  added  to  complete  a  parallel,  it  is  only 
part  of  itself,  as  'the  Lord  shall  yet  comfort  Zion,  and  yet 
choose  Jerusalem;'  but  the  introduction  along  Avith  it  of  a 
different  city  altogether,  in  the  comparison  'beautiful  as  Tirzah, 
comely  as  Jerusalem,'  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  temple, 
which  was  Jerusalem's  glory,  had  not  yet  been  reared.  Being 
thus  conducted  toward  the  beginning  of  Solomon's  reign,  we 
receive  at  its  own  value  the  information  given  by  the  son  of 
Sirach,  Avho  addresses  Solomon;  'The  countries  marvelled  at 
thee  for  thy  songs,  and  proverbs,  and  parables,  and  interpre- 
tations' (Ecclesiasticus  xlvii.  17).  In  the  same  order  the  mar- 
ginal dates  in  our  authorized  version  arrange  his  writings; 
Ecclesiastes  at  the  close  of  his  reign.  Proverbs  after  it  had  con- 
tinued fifteen  years,  and  Canticles  within  about  a  year  of  its 
commencement. 

But  we  advance  one  step  further,  and  unhesitatingly  concur 
with  those  who  hold  that  the  Song  of  Songs  was  written  by 
Solomon  before  he  ascended  the  throne  of  his  father  David. 
There  is  not  a  single  circumstance  of  improbability  in  this 
view.     Solomon  was  beloved  of  God  from  his  birth,  and  was 


HIS   EAELIEST  WORK — DIVINELY   INSPIRED.  19 

named  Jedidiah  or  the  Lord's  Beloved,  and  throughout  his 
youth  aud  childhood  he  retained  this  divine  flivor,  'for  he  was 
beloved  of  his  God,  and  God  made  him  king  over  all  Israel.' 
(Xeh.  xiii.  2G.)  Full  of  grace  and  wisdom,  there  was  every 
reason  to  expect  that  in  his  youth  both  grace  and  gifts  would 
tend  to  flow  in  the  channel  of  holy  song ;  for  if  any  child  on 
earth  might  imbibe  the  love  of  divine  melody,  it  was  the  son 
of  David ;  and  if  any  house  on  earth  would  encourage  and  ex- 
exercise  the  gift,  it  was  David's  house  in  Jerusalem.  Nor  was 
there  any  season  in  Solomon's  life  more  adapted  to  call  forth 
all  his  gracious  affections,  or  more  free  from  distracting  cares, 
than  after  David  had  given  him,  in  presence  of  assembled  Israel, 
the  solemn  charge  to  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord;  had  re- 
ceived for  it  at  the  hands  of  a  willing  people  gold,  silver,  precious 
stones,  brass,  and  iron,  and  doubtless  also  (as  in  the  tabernacle) 
blue,  purple,  scarlet,  and  fine  linen  for  the  curtains  of  Solo- 
mon; and  had  written  the  forty-fifth  and  seventy-second  Psalms 
for  the  great  Prince  of  Peace  that  was  yet  to  come.  If  Solo- 
mon was  the  chosen  man,  this  seems  the  choicest  time  to  sing 
the  Song  of  Songs;  'and  saith  not  the  law  the  same  also?' 
Ecclesiastes  is  entitled  'the  words  of  the  Preacher,  the  son  of 
David,  king  of  Jerusalem;' and  is  it  not  because  the  words 
were  written  after  Solomon  had  been  settled  in  his  house  and 
kingdom  in  Jerusalem  ?  The  Proverbs  are  *  of  Solomon  the 
son  of  David,  king  of  Israel;'  and  is  it  not  because  he  wrote 
them  after  he  was  king  of  Israel,  yet  before  his  palace  in  Je- 
rusalem was  completed,  and  himself  established  there?  Can- 
ticles are  simply  'the  Song  of  Solomon,'  and  surely  because 
that  song  was  sung  before  he  ascended  his  father's  throne. 
From  the  days  of  Origen  downward,  long  and  labored  dis- 
quisitions have  been  written  on  those  three  titles !  but  nothing 
penetrates  the  mind  or  adheres  to  the  memory  save  these  simple 
distinctions,  which  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  holy 
song  of  first  love  to  the  Lord,  'a  spiritual  and  mystical  device' 
given  to  him  in  the  kindness  of  his  youth,  and  in  the  love  of 
his  own  espousals  to  the  King  eternal,  immortal,  invisible. 
Nor  is  it  the  least  argument  against  this  conclusion  that  he 
sings  of  'King  Solomon,'  because  David  had  now  publicly  de- 
B 


20  THE   SONG   OF   SOLOMON. 

clared  that  Solomon  was  to  succeed  liira  in  the  throne ;  had 
himself  sung  ^touching  the  King  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men;' 
had  entitled  the  seventy-second  Psalm  for,  or  rather  of,  Solo- 
mon; and  had  therein  described  none  but  that  King,  'whose 
name  is  to  endure  for  ever  with  abundance  of  peace ' — even  as 
his  son  in  these  Canticles  sets  forth  not  himself  at  all,  but  only 
the  true  Solomon,  the  one  Prince  of  Peace. 

But  it  must  further  be  noted  concerning  the  author  of  the 
book,  or  rather  the  ready  writer  whom  the  Divine  Author 
employed  in  this  work,  that  in  one  Solomon  three  several  men 
are  found.  There  is  the  child  of  Adam, '  the  old  man  corrupt 
according  to  the  deceitful  lusts;'  there  is  the  child  of  God,  new- 
born, taught,  chastened,  and  'among  many  nations  no  king 
like  him,  beloved  of  his  God ;'  and  there  is  the  inspired  writer 
of  Holy  Scripture,  of  Canticles, — of  Proverbs,  of  Ecclesiastes. 
How  divinely  even  the  covetous  and  accursed  Balaam  sings, 
Avhen  'he  hears  the  words  of  God,  and  sees  the  vision  of  the 
Almighty,'  and  prays  for  the  death  and  the  heaven  of  the  re- 
deemed. 'Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my 
last  end — my  after  state — be  like  his.'  So  Solomon,  hearing 
the  words  of  God  and  seeing  the  vision  of  the  Almiglity,  speaks 
not  the  words  of  Solomon  earthly,  nor  of  Solomon  spiritual  3'et 
fallible,  but  of  Solomon  'moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost;'  words  which 
at  another  season  he  could  by  no  effort  have  uttered ;  words  which 
in  their  utterance  he  could  only  partially  understand,  and  which 
he  would  afterwards  study  as  a  humble  inquirer,  'searching 
what  the  Spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  him  did  signify.' 

One  grand  principle  remains  both  to  be  broadly  stated  and 
constantly  kept  in  mind  in  the  perusal  of  this  book, — the  great 
Baconian  rule  for  Bible  interpretation,  that  'these  two  known 
to  God  and  unhnown  to  man  do  make  a  just  and  sound  differ- 
ence between  the  exposition  of  the  Scriptures  and  all  other 
books.'  Once  incorporated  with  the  Word  of  God,  written 
and  recorded  for  all  ages  of  the  Church,  every  image  it  con- 
tains is  to  be  examined  not  by  the  lamp  of  Solomon,  but  by 
the  bright  beams  of  the  Sun  of  Ilighteousness;  of  the  true  light 
that  now  shines  on  every  page  of  God's  great  revelation.  In 
our  hearts  also  may  it  shine,  giving  "the  light  of  the  know- 
ledge of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesns  Christ  I' 


THE  SONG   IN   ITS   UNITY.  21 


III. 

THE  SONG  IN  ITS  UNITY  AND  IN  ITS  SEVERAL  CANTICLES. 

The  Song  of  songs  which  is  Solomon's. — Cha.p.  i.  1. 

The  Book  having  already  been  considered  in  its  character, 
the  next  subject  of  inquiry  is  the  arrangement  of  its  parts. 
Searcher  of  the  Scriptures  for  eternal  life,  this  is  not  thy  prin- 
cipal study  in  the  sacred  oracles.  One  who  stands  among  the 
chief  of  the  wise  and  learned  in  this  world  has  told  thee  truth 
in  saying,  that  the  '  Scriptures  being  written  to  the  thoughts 
of  men  and  to  the  succession  of  all  ages,  in  the  foresight  of  all 
differing  estates  of  the  Church,  yea  and  particularly  of  the  elect, 
have  in  themselves,  not  only  totally  or  collectively,  but  distinc- 
tively in  clauses  and  words,  infinite  springs  and  streams  of 
doctrine  to  water  the  Church  in  every  part.'  (Bacon.)  It  is, 
for  the  most  jDart,  from  those  infinite  streams  that  spring  out 
of  the  clauses  and  words,  that  thou  art  enabled  to  draw  the 
living  water  both  for  life  at  the  first,  and  for  daily  refreshing ; 
yet  additional  light  is  thrown  on  each  separate  word  by  the 
discovered  connexion  of  the  whole,  and  over  this  Song  will  the 
interpreter  often  breathe  the  j)rayer, 

'  Oh  that  I  knew  how  all  thy  lights  combine, 
And  the  configurations  of  their  glorie ; 

Seeing  not  only  how  each  verse  doth  shine, 
But  all  the  constellations  of  the  storie!' 

Not  more  intently  does  the  midnight  astronomer  seek  to  pene- 
trate the  heavens  and  divide  the  stars,  than  he  must  strive  to 
discover  in  those  bright  pages  'the  constellations  of  this  storie;' 
and  the  patience  of  the  reader  must  also  be  entreated  for  a  part 
of  the  subject,  that  is  less  attractive  than  important. 

First  of  all,  the  unity  of  the  Song,  tliough  questioned  by  a 
very  few  interpreters  who  would  divide  the  book  into  various 
unconnected  scenes  gathered  round  a  common  subject,  is  allowed 


22  THE   SONG 

almost  universally,  and  by  critics  and  divines  widely  diifering 
from  each  other  in  its  interpretation.  This  unity  is  clearly 
established  by  the  oneness  of  subject  throughout;  by  the  re- 
currence in  every  part  of  the  same  expressions  (ii.  G,  7 ;  iii.  5; 
viii.  3,  4: — ii.  16;  vi.  3;  vii.  10: — iii.  6;  vi.  10;  viii.  5,  etc.); 
and  by  an  evident  chain  of  connexion  through  the  whole,  how- 
ever some  of  its  links  may  lie  concealed.  It  is  also  confirmed 
by  the  fact  that  the  theory  of  complete  division  solves  no  real 
difficulty,  because  the  most  abrupt  transitions  occur  in  the 
heart  of  what  all  acknowledge  to  be  parts  of  the  same  scene; 
as  when  the  midnight  knocking  at  the  door  of  a  humble  cottage 
is  followed  by  the  most  glorious  description  of  the  King  that 
the  book  contains  (chap,  v.) 

Receiving,  then,  the  entire  Song  as  one,  our  attention  is  next 
attracted  by  the  marked  peculiarity  of  the  scriptural  statement 
that  the  Songs  of  Solomon  were  a  thousand  and  five,  combin- 
ing a  number  extremely  general  and  complete  with  another 
comparatively  fractional.  The  sacred  w^riters  are  far  from  in- 
different regarding  numbers,  and  when  it  is  recorded  that  Solo- 
mon's proverbs  were  three  thousand,  we  cannot  conceive  that 
this  exact  figure  was  the  result  of  accident,  but  of  intention  on 
the  part  of  the  writer.  A  thousand  songs  present  the  same  or 
even  greater  completeness  of  character,  and  had  this  been  their 
number,  we  should  certainly  have  ascribed  it  to  design  in  the 
author;  especially  when  we  consider  how  naturally  he  might 
either  divide  a  larger  song  into  two,  or  combine  two  shorter 
songs  into  one.  When,  therefore,  the  broken  number  of  five  is 
added  to  the  already  perfect  thousand,  we  are  irresistibly  led 
to  ask  the  reason.  Were  these  five  songs  of  a  character  differ- 
ent from  all  the  rest;  was  there  a  complete  thousand  of  their 
own  class,  and  another  five  of  a  different  order  that  did  not 
admit  of  amalgamation ;  the  five  also  complete  in  themselves, 
but  wholly  distinct  from  the  thousand?  Now  the  Song  of 
Songs,  though  one,  is  universally  admitted  to  consist  of  several 
songs  or  parts,  according  to  the  title  the  Targum  gives,  '  Songs 
and  Hymns,'  and  our  old  English  title,  the  Book  of  Canticles. 
Were  there,  then,  a  thousand  songs  good  and  holy  in  their  OAvn 
kind;  over  and  above  these,  was  there  one  inspired  song,  the 


IN   ITS   FIVE   CANTICLES.  23 

Song  of  Songs,  the  song  of  a  thousand,  the  song  above  the 
thousand ;  and  did  that  song  contain  within  itself  five  songs, 
separate  yet  forming  one  whole? 

If  the  reader  attach  any  weight  to  these  observations,  let  him 
lay  it  aside;  and  if  he  attach  none,  he  will  be  the  more  free, 
when  we  now  examine  the  book  itself.  Let  us  also  forget  all 
theories  of  interpretation,  literal  or  allegorical;  let  us  then  note 
the  occurrence  of  every  complete  break  in  the  connexion  in- 
dicated by  the  double  mark  of  one  scene  fairly  closed,  and 
another  commencing  abrujjtly ;  and  by  these  breaks  let  us  divide 
the  Song  into  its  principal  parts,  irrespectively  Cf  any  scheme 
of  construction,  any  theory  of  interpretation,  and  all  other  con- 
siderations whatever.  Only,  let  us  be  sure  that  we  have  found 
both  a  close  and  a  commencement,  for  otherwise  we  shall  be 
c|uite  entangled  by  what  at  first  appears  a  multitude  of  abrupt 
transitions.  Proceeding  on  these  principles,  we  find  three  closes 
exactly  alike,  'I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  that  ye 
stir  not  up  nor  awake  my  love  until  he  please'  (ii.  7,  iii.  5. 
viii.  4);  followed  by  three  abrupt  commencements,  'the  voice 
of  my  beloved'  (ii.  8),  and  'who  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the 
wilderness'  twice  repeated  (iii.  6  and  viii.  5).  Another  full 
close  we  find,  'eat,  O  friend,  drink,  yea  drink  abundantly,  O 
beloved'  (v.  1);  and  followed  by  the  abrupt  beginning  of  a 
new  scene,  '  I  sleep  but  my  heart  waketh '  (v.  2). 

Let  us  now  search  through  the  eight  chapters  of  the  book, 
and  we  shall  not  discover  a  siugle  additional  passage  com- 
bining the  conclusion  of  one  scene  with  the  commencement  of 
another.  Amongst  all  the  apparently  sudden  commencements, 
the  most  remarkable  are  these  three:  'By  night  I  sought  him' 
(iii.  1), — but  it  is  the  immediate  sequence  of  the  preceding 
verse.  Until  the  day  break,  turn  my  Beloved,  by  night  I  sought 
him ; — 'Who  is  she  that  looketh  forth  as  the  morning '  (vi.  10), — 
but  it  properly  forms  part  of  the  verse  preceding.  They  praised 
her  saying,  Who  is  she; — and  lastly,  'How  beautiful  are  thy 
feet  with  shoes'  (vii.  1), — but  it  is  in  the  closest  connexion 
with  the  verse  before.  Return  that  we  may  look  on  thee,  how 
beautiful  are  thy  feet  with  shoes! 

These  four  breaks  that  we  have  noted  divide  the  Song  into 


24  THE   SONG 

five  parts,  all  alike  ending  in  fulness  of  rest  and  refreshing,  in 
the  form  either  of  quiet  repose  or  of  abundant  repast ;  except 
indeed  the  last,  which  strikingly  concludes  the  book,  as  it  had 
commenced,  with  the  intense  longing  of  unsatisfied  spiritual 
desire — beginning,  'Let  him  kiss  me  with  the  kisses  of  his 
mouth,'  and  ending,  'Make  haste  my  Beloved.' 

But  if  all  biblical  interpreters  divide  the  book,  must  not 
these  five  divisions  if  correct  have  commended  themselves  to 
their  adoption?  And  so  they  have;  for  though  not  one  emi- 
nent critic  has  arranged  the  Song  into  five  parts,  but  into  six, 
seven,  eight,  twelve;  yet  they  fix  on  these  five  parts  with  a 
general  and  all  but  universal  consent,  and  the  moment  they 
try  to  find  one  more,  there  is  disagreement  and  confusion.  This 
will  be  seen  at  a  glance  by  the  following  table  (p.  28),  in  which, 
regarding  the  one  that  is  least  striking  at  first  inspection,  the 
consent  is  unanimous  (v.  2);  while  the  slight  diversity  on  the 
other  three  is  more  than  compensated  by  the  almost  universal 
concurrence  of  other  authors  regarding  them.  After  these  five 
parts  the  discordance  is  apparent,  and  the.  actual  disagreement 
much  greater  than  appears;  for  example  in  chap.  vi.  10,  which 
has  four  advocates  out  of  the  eight,  the  remaining  four.  Bishop 
Percy,  Dr.  Good,  Mr.  Taylor  (Fragments  of  Calmet),  and 
Mr.  Williams,  not  only  disallow  any  main  division,  but  hold 
the  most  immediate  connexion  with  the  preceding  verse,  which 
they  separate  only  by  a  comma,  while  their  division  is  equally 
disallowed  by  the  others.  The  case  is  substantially  the  same 
with  chap.  iii.  1,  and  chap.  vii.  1,  where  some  make  a  chief 
division  while  others  deny  any  subdivision. 

But  the  concurrence  will  be  still  more  evident  if  we  take 
the  first  seven  authorities,  omitting  Bossuet  because  he  led  the 
way ;  and  the  others  taking  the  benefit  of  his  labors  were  more 
exact  in  their  divisions.  From  Theodoret  downward  the  Song 
had  indeed  been  divided,  but  apparently  without  any  special 
study,  till  Bossuet  took  it  up,  and  by  the  lustre  of  his  genius 
attracted  toward  it  the  regards  of  literary  men  for  the  sake  of 
its  external  beauties.  Among  the  first  of  these  was  Dr.  Percy, 
Dean  of  Carlisle  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  Dromore,  able  as  a 
scholar  and  acute,  but  in  things  divijp  the  least  of  the  sons  of 


DIVIDED   INTO   FIVE   BY   CKITICS.  25 

Gibeon,  that  have  been  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water 
for  the  children  of  Israel.  Bossuet  while  explaining  the  book 
as  a  spiritual  allegory,  based  his  exj^osition  on  two  supposi- 
tions equally  untenable;  the  first  that  the  bride  was  Pharaoh's 
daughter,  the  second  that  the  Song  describes  a  marriage  feast 
of  seven  days'  duration.  The  first  of  these  ideas  Dr.  Percy 
disposes  of  in  the  following  just  and  decided  sentence  :  'As  for 
the  common  hypothesis  that  the  Bride  was  Pharaoh's  daughter, 
it  is  incompatible  with  many  circumstances  in  the  poem,  and 
indeed  is  contrary  to  the  whole  tenor  of  it.'  But  the  other 
supposition,  of  a  literal  marriage  festival  extending  over  seven 
days,  is  the  foundation  of  his  whole  work ;  of  which  he  states 
that  'the  plan  is  borrowed  from  that  of  the  celebrated  Bishop 
of  Meaux  as  described  by  Dr.  Lowth,  for  the  Bishop's  book 
had  been  sought  after  by  the  translator  in  vain.'  This  want 
his  readers  have  to  regret  as  much  as  himself,  for  had  he  seen 
the  work  from  which  his  plan  was  taken,  he  might  possibly 
have  been  ashamed  to  place  his  own  grovelling  speculations 
side  by  side  with  its  comparatively  just  and  freqently  noble 
sentiments.  But,  in  striking  contrast  to  his  precursor,  he  was 
encumbered  with  no  riches  of  thought,  no  loftiness  of  view,  no 
treasures  from  the  Christian  fathers  to  distract  his  attention. 
The  Bishop  of  Meaux  set  himself  to  rear  an  elegant  palace  on 
the  ancient  groundwork  prepared  by  the  King  of  Israel,  and, 
engaged  in  the  erection,  he  mistook  some  of  the  original  lines, 
the  Bishop  or  Dromore,  with  a  style  of  interpretation  serving 
only  to  cast  up  walls  of  mud  on  the  marble  foundations  of 
Solomon,  gave  his  whole  attention  to  the  groundwork,  traced 
the  lines  with  far  greater  accuracy,  and  had  his  views  corrobo- 
rated by  succeeding  laborers.  If  therefore  we  omit  Bossuet, 
we  have  seven  critics  all  agreeing  on  these  five  divisions  wdtb 
the  exception  of  a  single  verse  in  the  case  of  Jahn  (viii.  4) ; 
whose  work  is  the  only  one  we  have  not  before  us,  and  whose 
other  divisions  would  aJmost  lead  us  to  suspect  an  error  of 
transcription  in  this. 

The  various  authors  give  different  names  to  their  divisions, 
sections,  days,  idyls,  songs,  which  however  we  have  not  dis- 
tinguished, but  have  classed  them  all  under  the  time-honored 


26  THE   SONG 

term  of  Canticles ;  taking  the  five  on  which  tliey  nearly  all 
aojree  as  the  basis  of  the  table.  With  such  a  concurrence  of 
authorities  we  hold  it  as  established  beyond  reasonable  doubt, 
that  this  book  consists  of  five  Canticles;  yet  not  of  five  dif- 
ferent songs,  but  of  five  combined  in  one, — five  porches  per- 
taining to  one  pool  of  Bethesda. 

Having  thus  ascertained  the  various  parts  of  this  noble 
Song,  let  us  now  examine  whether  any  connected  progress  can 
be  discovered  throughout  the  whole,  which,  taken  together 
with  the  several  Canticles,  may  shed  reciprocal  light  on  each 
other ;  and  in  doing  so  our  readers  will  suffer  us  to  state,  that 
the  preceding  partition  of  the  book  into  its  principal  sections 
was  made  without  the  remotest  reference  to  any  interpretation 
with  which  it  may  appear  to  accord.  On  the  contrary,  having 
divided  the  Song  into  five  on  principles  purely  literary,  and 
being  satisfied  that  the  division  contained  a  portion  of  scrip- 
tural truth  which  is  all  precious,  we  could,  notwithstanding, 
make  no  use  of  it  whatever;  and  while  engaged  in  the  study 
of  the  separate  verses,  it  lay  on  our  table  for  months  as  a  key 
that  seemed  fitted  for  some  lock,  but  useless  to  us,  because  we 
could  discover  no  door  for  the  key  to  open. 

In  our  old  bibles  the  heading  of  the  Song  of  Solomon  is, 
'A  mystical  devyce  of  the  spiritual  and  godly  love  between 
Christ  the  Spouse,  and  the  Chyrche  or  Congregation  his 
Spousesse.'  Now,  while  amongst  the  literal  interpreters  scarcely 
two  can  affree  too-ether,  and  to  establish  his  own  views  each 
must  overthrow  the  work  of  his  predecessor,  the  case  is  exactly 
contrary  with  those  who  receive  it  as  'a  mystical  device;'  be- 
cause they  are  unanimous  in  holding  the  mystical  song  as 
descriptive  of  the  dealings  and  intercourse  of  God  with  his 
People.  The  Jews  understand  it  of  Jehovah  and  the  Congre- 
gation of  Israel,  the  Christians  of  Christ  and  the  Church; 
some  have  taken  it  historically  of  transactions  past,  others 
prophetically  of  transactions  to  come;  some  explain  it  of  the 
Church  collective,  and  others  of  the  individual  Bride,  the 
living  soul.  But  amongst  these  various  views  there  reigns 
the  most  perfect  harmony,  because  each  is  true  in  itself  and 
none  conflicts  with  another,  and  in  the  combination  of  all  lie 


ADMITTIXG   VARIOUS   APPLICATIOXS.  27 

the  depth  and  fuhiess  of '  the  mystical  device.'  It  is  a  many- 
sided  mirror  designed  to  reflect,  and  reflecting  most  truly, 
whatever  portion  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  his  people  is 
placed  before  it,  Judaic  or  Christian,  ^^ast  or  future,  public  or 
personal;  and  there  is  nothing  incompatible  in  the  combina- 
tion, because  Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever,  and  his  ways  are  the  same;  and  in  all  generations 
heart  answers  tq^ heart  in  man  as  face  to  face  in  the  water.  Of 
this  lofty  pillar,  with  its  foundation  deep  beneath  the  ground 
and  its  summit  high  above  the  'clouds,  uniting  earth  and 
heaven,  one  discovers  a  portion  and  says.  Mine  must  be  the 
very  pillar,  because  its  material,  its  circumference,  its  flutings, 
tally  exactly  with  the  divine  model;  and  haply  so  they  do, 
yet  it  is  not  therefore  the  entire  column,  but  one  of  its  many 
noble  stones ;  and  thy  brother  has  found  another,  which  is  also 
an  harmonious  part  of  the  whole,  and  so  unto  whatever  num- 
ber of  such  discoveries  and  applications.  The  case  is  more 
difiicultin  two  spiritual  interpretations  of  a  particular  passage, 
which  seem  so  evidently  to  spring  from  separate  roots  that  the 
difference  must  be  radical,  and  one  or  other  inadmissible.  But 
in  all  Scripture  it  will  often  be  found,  by  digging  deeper,  that 
what  appeared  to  be  two  distinct  trees  have  really  one  com- 
mon root  and  stem,  which  the  overlying  earth  had  covered 
from  our  imperfect  sight.  ' 


28 


THE   CANTICLES   OF   THE   SONG. 


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DECEIVED   HISTORIC   REFERENCES.  29 


IV. 

RECEIVED  REFERENCES  IN  THE  SONG  PRESENTING 
A  DEFINITE  HISTORIC  OUTLINE. 

The  Song  of  songs,  which  is  Solomon's. — Chap.  i.  1. 

In  the  spirit  of  these  remarks,  we  proceed  to  attempt  a  sketch 
of  the  Song — historical  now,  prophetical  at  its  first  utterance, 
yet  not  properly  either  history  or  prophecy,  but  communion 
of  Christ  with  his  Church  on  an  historical  basis.  Such  an 
outline  does  not  set  aside  other  sketches,  either  on  the  ground 
of  Jewish  history,  with  the  progress  of  the  ark  through  the 
desert  for  its  centre,  or  on  the  ground  of  personal  history  and 
experience,  which  we  hold  undoubtedly  to  be  the  principal 
design  of  the  book.  The  groundwork  that  we  take  is,  our 
Lord's  life  on  earth,  in  connexion  with  the  times  immediately 
preceding  and  following;  and  if  its  unfolding  meet  with  various 
passages  which,  without  being  contrary,  appear  irrelevant,  this 
proves  nothing  more  than  what  we  earnestly  maintain,  that 
the  Song  was  not  exclusively  designed  for  any  one  portion  of 
the  universal  Church,  or  any  one  period  in  its  history. 

Before  proceeding,  however,  we  must  anticipate  the  objection 
that  will  arise  in  some  minds  to  the  introduction  of  the  death  of 
Jesus  Christ  as  a  leading,  or  rather  as  the  leading  and  central 
topic  of  the  book;  because  death  seems  discordant  or  even  in- 
compatible with  a  marriage  song.  But  the  incongruity  is 
entirely  in  our  own  conceptions,  and  arises  from  forgetting 
the  nature  of  the  Song  as  allegoric,  and  the  nature  of  the 
marriage  as  of  the  redeemed  with  their  Redeemer.  Allegory 
appears  to  us  artificial,  because  our  own  mode  of  thinking  has 
departed  from  nature.  Figurative  speech  is  natural  to  man, 
not  only  to  the  ancient  and  the  eastern  nations,  but  to  infant 
nations  in  s;eneral:  and  has  a  deeo  and  firm  hold  on  human 


30  HISTORIC  OUTLINE. 

nature  in  its  highest  as  well  as  in  its  lowest  stages  of  develop- 
ment, which  is  only  partially  weakened  by  the  artificial  lacings 
of  the  mind  in  a  stage  intermediate.  The  allegoric  dream  of 
Bedford  Jail  commends  itself  to  all;  the  allegoric  song  of  Je- 
rusalem's Palace  has  turned  the  bread  and  water  of  many  a 
prison  into  a  royal  banquet.  To  a  Hebrew,  the  literal  sense  of 
such  a  song  as  Solomon's  would  appear  strained;  the  spiritual 
would  appear  fit  and  natural.  'My  Beloved,'  saith  the  Bride, 
'is  white  and  ruddy' — the  elements  of  health  and  beauty  in  the 
human  countenance  and  form  are  in  him  most  perfectly  blended; 
but  Solomon  knew  that  he  was  not  painting  a  face  of  flesh  and 
blood  of  exceeding  comeliness,  and  never  meant  to  portray  it 
except  as  the  veil  that  might  enable  the  undazzled  eye  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  divine  form  within — of  the  health  and 
the  beauty  divine  that  are  beneath  the  veil.  But  does  this 
general  idea  exhaust,  or  fully  meet,  the  white  and  red  that 
characterize  the  whole  person  of  the  Beloved,  and  distinguish 
him  from  all  others  in  heaven  and  earth  ?  Did  Solomon  mean 
more?  Probably  he  did,  but  at  least  he  knew  his  own  ignor- 
ance of  the  full  import  of  the  words  uttered  through  his  lips, 
and  searched  what  the  Spu'it  signified  when  it  spake  before- 
hand of  the  sufferings  of  Christ;  and  to  us  and  to  the  Church 
in  all  generations,  the  white  and  the  red  are,  above  all  other 
tokens,  the  two  marked  and  constant  characteristics  of  the 
Lamb  of  God — the  blood  of  Christ  as  of  a  lamb  without  spot — 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne  the  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain. 

But  this  leads  us  directly  to  the  mingling  of  the  sorrows  of 
death  with  the  joys  of  a  marriage  feast,  and  the  setting  forth 
of  those  sorrows  under  images  of  gladness ;  which  may  seem 
to  some  to  be  unnatural  or  inadmissible,  even  in  purest  allegory. 
In  all  other  allegory  the  objection  would  be  valid,  but  this 
seemingly  foreign  element  must  form  the  very  pith  and  sub- 
stance of  every  allegorical  delineation  of  the  marriage  of  the 
Lamb.  The  riddle  of  Manoah's  son  at  his  own  marriage  feast, 
'  Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat,  and  out  of  the  strong  one 
came  forth  sweetness,'  forms  the  warp  and  the  woof  of 
the  whole  wedding  garment  of  salvation.  The  attempt  to 
pick  out  the  scarlet  threads,  and  leave  the  marriage  robe  white, 


MINGLING   OF   DEATH   WITH   JOY.  31 

will  undo  all  its  texture  and  rend  it  into  rags.  '  Who  is  this 
glorious  in  his  apparel — clothed  in  a  vesture  dipped  in  blood? — 
his  name  is  the  Word  of  God.'  (Isa.  Ixiii. ;  Rev.  xix.)  Not 
only  is  the  Bridegroom  of  the  Church  He  who  poured  out  his 
soul  unto  death  on  her  behalf,  but  the  more  that  the  marriage 
itself  is  brought  forward,  the  redder  is  the  dye  of  the  Bride- 
groom's robe.  '  Husbands  love  your  wives,  as  Christ  loved 
the  Church  and  gave  himself  for  it — married  to  Him,  that  is 
raised  from  the  dead.'  The  Lamb  is  a  name  that  has  constant 
reference  to  the  shedding  of  his  blood,  and  inseparable  from 
his  sacrifice ;  and  this  is  the  name  by  which  he  is  called  as  the 
husband  of  the  Church,  when  she  is  expressly  termed  his  bride 
or  his  wife.  She  is  never  called  the  Bride  of  Jesus,  or  of 
Christ,  or  of  the  Root  of  David,  but  always  and  only  the  Bride 
of  the  Lamb — that  is,  of  him  who  is  both  white  and  red.  '  I 
looked  and  lo  a  Lamb — these  are  virgins,  they  follow  the 
Lamb — Blessed  are  they  which  are  called  unto  the  marriage- 
supper  of  the  Lamb — I  saw  the  holy  city  prepared  as  a  bride 
adorned  for  her  husband — come  hither  and  I  will  show  thee 
the  Bride  the  Lamb's  wife — The  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is 
come  and  his  wife  has  made  herself  ready.'  (Rev.  xiv.,  xix., 
XX.,  xxi.) 

Xor  does  it  present  any  difficulty  regarding  the  Song,  that 
there  is  no  express  introduction  of  the  element  of  sorrow  as 
affecting  the  Bridegroom.  In  his  own  marriage  parables 
Christ  himself  never  once  introduces  it;  and  there  is  more  of 
the  Bridegroom's  sorroAV  in  these  words  of  the  Song,  '  my  head 
is  filled  with  dew  and  my  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night,' 
than  in  all  the  wedding  representations  of  Christ,  who  magni- 
fied not  his  own  griefs,  but  endured  the  cross  for  the  joy  set 
before  him.  Solomon's  parable  of  Wisdom  building  her  house, 
killing  her  beasts,  mingling  her  wine,  furnishing  her  table, 
and  sending  forth  her  maidens,  saying.  Come  eat  of  my  bread 
and  drink  of  the  wine  which  I  have  mingled — is  replete  with 
the  liveliest  images  of  joy,  (Prov.  ix.  1-5);  and  exactly  the 
same  are  the  images  employed  by  our  Lord  in  the  marriage  of 
the  King's  son — the  dinner  prepared,  the  oxen  and  the  fatlings 
killed,  and  all  things  ready.      The  element  of  grief  never 


32  HISTOEIC  OUTLINE. 

emerges  till  we  solve  the  parable,  and  ask,  what  is  the  falling 
killed? — 'he  is  led  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter';  what  the  pre- 
pared dinner? — 'my  flesh  is  meet  indeed';  what  the  marriage- 
bread? — 'this  is  my  body  broken  for  you';  and  what  the  nuptial 
wine-cup? — 'this  cup  is  the  I^Tew  Testament  in  my  blood.' 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  clear  our  way,  we  now  take  up 
the  book  historically,  and  find  three  notes  of  time  which  have 
commended  themselves  to  general  reception,  and  which  we 
shall  give  in  the  words  of  three  of  our  old  bibles.  Commencing 
with  the  last,  '  We  have  a  little  sister,'  the  note  is,  'The  Jewish 
Church  speaketh  of  the  Church  of  the  Gentiles'  (viii.  8);  then 
in  the  centre,  'Eat,  O  friends,  drink,'  it  is,  'Christ  speaketh 
to  the  apostles'  (v.  1);  and  in  the  commencing  verse  of  all,  'Let 
him  kiss  me,'  the  note  is,  'The  Church  of  the  coming  of  Christ 
speaketh  saying.'  Combining  these  three,  we  shall  have  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Song,  Christ  about  to  come;  in  the  mid- 
dle of  it,  Christ  finishing  his  work  on  earth ;  and  in  the  end, 
Christ  ascended  and  having  poured  out  the  Spirit :  first,  Christ 
absent,  because  not  yet  descended  from  the  Father;  second, 
Christ  present,  being  come  in  the  flesh;  and  last,  Christ  absent 
again,  having  reascended  where  he  was  before.  If  there  is 
individual  historic  reference  in  each  of  these  three  points, 
their  remarkable  conjunct  feature  is,  that  they  are  not  isolated 
points,  but  three  distinct  links  belonging  to  one  chain  in 
regular  order  of  history — the  cry  for  the  Advent,  the  last 
Supper,  and  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles. 

Now,  it  appears  to  us  that  this  outline  may  be  filled  up  by 
the  intermediate  history  taken  from  the  Gospels  and  Acts,  and 
that  not  merely  in  a  few  occasional  texts,  but  in  a  narrative 
consecutive  throughout  in  its  leading  features.  Isolated  texts 
have  been  referred  to  historic  facts,  now  in  accordance  and 
affain  at  variance  with  these  landmarks,  and  historical  sketches 
have  likewise  been  drawn  on  bases  entirely  different;  but  no 
attempt  has  been  made  to  fill  up  this  grand  and  simple  outline 
from  the  Song  itself  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  New  Testament 
narrative  on  the  other.  Yet  having  waymarks  so  well  defined, 
so  recognised  by  the  concurrent  voice  of  centuries,  and,  sparse 
though  they  be,  yet  determining  the  three  great  points  of  the 


LEADING  WAYMARKS.  33 

road,  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  we  feel  constrained  to  en- 
deavor to  mark  out  the  intervening  stages.  If  this  can  be  done 
satisfactorily,  we  shall  gain  the  two  advantages  of  obtaining 
a  corroborative  proof  of  the  purely  allegorical  character  of  the 
Song,  and  of  increased  light  shed  on  the  interpretation  of  its 
individual  passages.  As  the  simplest  means  of  attaining  this 
end,  we  have  transcribed  the  entire  Song,  dividing  it  into  its 
several  canticles,  and  illustrating  it  throughout  by  parellel 
texts. 

In  perusing  this  illustration,  the  reader  is  requested  to  re- 
member, that  because  allegory  is  figure,  its  most  just  solution 
may  appear  fanciful  to  a  hasty  inspection.  He  is  respectfully 
reminded,  that  the  structure  of  the  Song  is  proved  to  be  inex- 
plicable throughout  on  any  other  basis  than  the  allegoric;  that 
its  five  grand  divisions,  on  which  our  interpretation  so  greatly 
depends,  are  not  derived  from  our  own  imagination,  but  from 
the  concurrent  voice  of  the  most  eminent  modern  critics;  and 
that  the  great  outlines  of  the  interpretation  itself  are  based  on 
the  general  consent  of  the  Christian  Church. 

We  have  further  to  remark,  that  the  illustrative  texts  are 
not  chosen  as  the  fittest  from  the  wide  field  of  the  Word,  but, 
with  few  exceptions,  from  within  the  limits  of  the  prescribed 
periods;  and  that  our  object  will  be  gained  if  assent  should 
be  given  to  the  justness  of  the  general  view,  irrespectively  of 
many  of  the  particular  quotations,  the  aptness  of  which  may 
commend  itself  to  one  mind  and  not  to  another.  Some  of  the 
texts  are  adduced  merely  to  indicate  the  occasion  that  may 
have  suggested  the  particular  figures  in  the  Song;  as,  the  offering 
of  the  turtle-doves  in  the  temple,  from  which  our  Lord,  ac- 
cording to  his  usual  manner,  might  in  Spirit  take  occasion  to 
compare  the  waiting  eyes  of  the  little  church  there  assembled 
to  the  beauty  of  doves  (i.  15).  In  like  manner,  the  greenness 
of  the  couch  on  which  the  Bride  is  supposed  to  be  seated  with 
the  King,  we  have  illustrated  by  the  grass  prepared  for  the 
cattle,  on  which  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  whole  family 
at  Bethlehem  were  resting,  when  there  was  no  room  for  them 
in  the  inn,  although  the  infant  Jesus  was  wrapt  in  swaddling 
clothes  besides;  for,  whatever  might  have  been  the  season  of 


34  HISTORIC   OUTLINE. 

the  year,  when  the  shepherds  were  all  night  in  the  open  fields, 
green  grass  would  be  provided  for  the  cattle  in  the  stalls.  Nor 
is  so  lowly  and  humbling  a  circumstance  at  all  unsuitable  for 
an  element  of  praise,  for  it  is  characteristic  of  the  mind  in  a 
state  of  holy  thoughtfulness,  to  lay  hold  on  the  meanest  pro- 
vision of  divine  goodness,  to  discern  beauty  in  it,  and  extract 
from  it  a  hymn  of  gratitude.  Then,  indeed,  as  ever  throughout 
the  life  and  the  death  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  there  met  together 
the  lowest  and  highest  extremes  of  humiliation  and  of  glory. 

'  For  see,  the  virgin  blest 

Hath  laid  her  babe  to  rest : 

And  all  about  the  courtly  stabl 

Bright  haruess'd  angels  sit  in  order  serviceable.' 

Milton. 

The  more  carefully  this  Song  of  Songs  is  studied,  the  deeper 
will  become  the  impression,  not  only  of  divine  beauty  shining 
in  all  its  words,  but  of  divine  wisdom  adjusting  all  its  parts, 
and  divine  order  reigning  through  the  whole,  even  in  the  most 
irrepressible  outbursts  of  the  devotional  affections. 

Let  us  now  put  our  shoes  from  off  our  feet  as  we  draw  nigh, 
for  the  ground  on  which  we  are  about  to  tread  is  holy;  let  us 
well  remember  that  'interpretations  belong  to  God;'  and  let 
us  ask  the  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation,  that  the  eyes  of 
our  understanding  may  be  enlightened  to  know  the  mystery 
of  Christ,  and  this  great  mystery  concerning  Christ  and  his 
Church.  To  them  that  are  without,  all  these  things  are  done 
in  parables,  that  seeing  they  may  see  and  not  perceive,  and 
hearing  they  may  hear  and  not  understand;  and  in  their 
darkened  minds  the  whole  volume  of  the  Word  is  a  parable 
unopened.  But  to  the  children  of  the  bridechamber  it  is  given 
by  the  Father  to  know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom — in 
privilege  it  is  theirs  to  'know  all  pivrables' — in  experience  may 
it  now  be  ours  to  'know  this  parable!' 


THE  SEAECH   FOK   THE    KIXG.  35 


V.       . 

SUMMAEY  OF  THE  SOXG 

Canticle  I. — Chap.  i.  2. — Chap.  ii.  7. 

Subject. — The  Bride  Seeking  and  Finding  the  King. 

PART  I.  CHAP.  I.  2-8. — THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KIJiG. 

The  Bride  desires  and  prays  for  nearer  access  to  the  King, 
and  more  immediate  tokens  of  his  condescending  love,  which 
she  values  far  above  all  earthly  joys  (2).  Addressing  him, 
though  not  visible,  she  assures  him  that  his  very  name  is  fra- 
grant as  most  precious  ointment  in  her  own  esteem,  and  the 
esteem  of  all  the  virgins  forming  one  Bride  along  with  her  (3). 
Finding  that  instead  of  approaching  he  has  rather  withdrawn, 
she  asks  him  for  strength  to  rise  and  overtake  him  (4) ;  she 
talks  with  her  own  heart  of  the  grace  the  King  hath  shown 
her  before;  she  addresses  him  again,  and  assures  him  that  the 
very  remembrance  of  his  love  is  above  all  present  earthly  glad- 
ness, and  that  all  who  love  truth  love  Him  (4). 

She  then  reflects  on  her  unworthiness  of  this  desired  honor, 
her  unmeetness  for  this  royal  marriage,  and  owns  it  to  all 
around  her;  but  she  claims  a  fitness,  nevertheless,  to  stand  not 
unbeseemingly  before  the  curtained  oracle  of  Solomon ;  and 
also  reminds  the  narrow  scrutinizers  of  her  person,  that  the 
deformity  they  now  see  is  at  once  contrary  to  her  high  origin, 
and  covered  by  her  glorious  privilege  and  destiny  (5,  (3).  But, 
meanwhile,  she  seems  to  lose,  instead  of  gaining,  ground  in  her 
own  suit  with  the  great  King;  he  has  so  withdrawn  that  she 
has  lost  trace  of  him  (as  in  the  glory  absent  from  the  temple) ; 
or  rather,  she  has  now  become  so  intensely  earnest  in  her  suit, 
that  she  refuses  to  be  satisfied  with  the  recovery  of  the  past,  or 
to  accept  of  any  of  his  messengers  or  companions,  however 
honored,  but  must  find  himself  (7).  He  hears  her,  answers 
c 


36  SUMMARY   OF   THE   SONG. 

her,  but  as  yet  grants  not  lier  request;  he  reveals  not  but  hides 
himself,  yet  directs  her  how  to  order  her  steps  that  in  due 
season  she  shall  find  him,  if  she  faint  not  (8). 


PART  II.  CHAP.  I.  9-II.  7. — THE  KING  FOUND. 

The  Bride  has  now  found  the  King,  the  tent  of  thg  Good 
Shepherd,  and  his  noon-tide  rest;  or  rather,  he  has  suddenly 
revealed  himself  to  her,  because  there  is  no  intermediate  his- 
tory betv/een  her  going  forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock  and 
the  sudden  salutation  from  his  lips  (9) ;  she  is  no  more  merely 
the  fairest  among  women,  but  he  now  addresses  her,  O  my 
love,  or,  more  exactly,  my  friend,  my  associate,  my  companion ; 
because  he  no  longer  speaks  to  her  through  a  dark  veil  as  be- 
fore, inviting  her  to  seek  him,  yet  hiding  himself  all  tlie  while, 
but  accosts  her  as  one  present,  seeing  him  face  to  face  and 
associated  with  him.  For  other  reasons  also,  but  more  es- 
pecially for  her  rapidity  of  pursuit  in  striving  to  overtake  him, 
he  compares  her  to  the  chariots  of  Pharaoh  at  the  Red  Sea; 
for  Israel  knew  nothing  comparable  to  these  in  swiftness,  as 
well  as  few  objects  equal  to  them  in  splendor.  He  commends 
both  her  comeliness  and  the  beautiful  jewels  with  which  she 
was  arrayed,  and  promises  an  ornament,  which  royalty  alone 
could  bestow,  of  a  silver-studded  crown  of  gold  (10, 11).  The 
Bride,  now  seated  at  the  King's  table,  brings  forth  her  choicest 
perfumes :  but  only  to  signify  that  his  name  is  all  her  precious 
ointment — is  a  casket  of  myrrh  which  she  will  keep  in  her 
bosom  continually;  that  he  is  her  fragrant  flower,  her  rich 
cluster  of  grapes  (12,  13,  14).  The  King  replies  by  com- 
mending her  beauty,  which  she  had  herself  disparaged  as  only 
blackness ;  and  by  comparing  her  waiting  eyes  to  those  of  eastern 
doves,  or  to  the  dovea  themselves  (15.)  She  answers  that  the 
fairness  is  his  and  not  hers;  that  his  gracious  presence  sheds 
beauty  over  all  things,  and  therefore  the  seat,  on  which  they 
rest  at  their  repast  beneath  the  shepherd's  tent,  is  of  the  greenest 
sward,  the  tent-poles  like  cedar  beams,  its  humble  canopy  like 
carved  ceilings  (17).  The  King  then  condescendingly  com- 
pares himself — for  everywhere  throughout  the  Song  there  is 


THE   SLEEPING    BRIDE    AWAKENED.  37 

conscious  and  marked  condescension  on  his  part — to  the  rose 
of  Sharon  and  the  lily  of  the  Valleys,  and  the  Bride  to  a  lily 
among  thorns  (ii.  1,  2).  The  rose  which  the  King  chooses  for 
the  emblem  of  himself  is,  by  an  ancient  interpreter  of  great 
accuracy,  translated  bud  or  rosebud,  and  by  some  modern 
scholars  the  exact  meaning  of  the  word  is  held  to  be,  the  rose- 
bud bqfsting  into  beauty  not  fully  developed.  (Parkhurst. 
Aquila.)  The  Bride  then  likens  him  to  the  one  tree  in  all  the 
forest  with  shade  to  shelter  her  from  the  scorching  sun,  with 
fruit  to  appease  her  hunger  and  quench  her  thirst  (3).  She 
confesses,  to  his  praise,  that  the  King  has  now  brought  her  into 
the  royal  palace,  has  feasted  her  with  a  heavenly  banquet,  has 
shown  her  all  his  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercy,  has  filled 
her  with  the  Spirit  as  with  new  wine,  and  has  left  her  nothing 
to  desire  but  the  continuance  of  his  peace,  his  presence,  his 
everlasting  love  (4,  5,  6,  7). 

Let  it  be  remarked  that  throughout  this  Canticle  there  is  no 
introduction  of  the  King's  vineyard  or  garden,  which  occupies 
subsequently  so  large  a  space.  There  is  the  King's  tent  and 
his  palace,  the  King  comparing  himself  to  the  rose  of  Sharon, 
the  Bride  comparing  him  to  the  apple-tree  in  the  fruitless 
forest,  but  no  garden  or  vineyard  in  which  they  both  meet — 
which  is  gradually  opened  as  the  history  advances. 


Canticle  II.    Chap.  ii.  8-iii.  5. 

Subject. —  The  Sleejnng  Bride  awakened. 

This  Canticle  is  distinguished  from  all  the  rest  by  the  cir- 
cumstance, that  throughout,  the  Bridegroom  never  speaks 
directly,  his  words  being  all  reported  by  the  Bride,  who  is  her- 
self never  once  in  his  company  till  near  the  close  of  the  Canti- 
cle (iii.  4). 

As  this  is  the  first  account  that  is  given  of  the  King's  vine- 
yard, it  will  assist  in  the  elucidation  of  the  book  to  note  in 
succession  all  its  subsequent  descriptions.  That  the  Vineyard 
of  the  Song  is  the  same  as  the  Garden,  may  be  gathered  from 
many  considerations,  and  is  conclusively  proved  by  the  Bride 


38  SUMMAIIY   OF   THE   SOXG. 

undertaking  the  charge  of  the  vineyard  in  the  eighth  chapter 
(12),  and  being  thereafter  immediately  addressed,  'Thou  that 
dwellest  in  the  gardens'  (13).  It  is,  in  fact,  an  extensive  royal 
garden  or  park  inchiding  a  vineyard  with  fig-trees  (ii.  13),  an 
orchard  with  pomegranates  and  all  delicious  fruits  (iv.  13;  vii. 
12),  a  grove  of  nuts  (vi.  11),  a  flower  garden  (ii.  12),  beds  of 
aromatic  plants  and  shrubs  with  groves  of  aromatic  trees  (iv. 
14),  and  even  fields  interspersed  with  cottages  (vii.  11),  the 
whole  being  well  watered  with  fountains  and  streams,  and 
securely  enclosed  (iv.  12,  15). 

Besides  frequent  allusions  throughout  the  Song,  there  are 
four  more  exact  accounts  of  this  garden  or  of  its  several  parts, 
and  clearly  distinguished  from  each  other  by  position,  by  the 
productions  specified,  or  by  the  season  of  the  year  to  which 
the  description  refers.  Arranging  these,  not  by  their  exclu- 
sive products  but  by  marks  distinctive  of  earth,  we  have  The 
Gaeden  of  flowers  (ii.  12),  The  Garden  of  spices  (v.  1), 
The  Garden  of  nuts  (vi.  11),  and  The  Garden  in  the 
fields  (vii.  11).  In  what  we  have  called  the  garden  of  flowers, 
because  these  are  named  nowhere  else,  there  are  no  ripe  fruits, 
but  green  figs  and  tender  grapes ;  in  the  garden  of  spices  all 
is  in  perfect  ripeness,  nothing  budding  or  green  or  immature; 
in  the  garden  of  nuts  there  are  no  ripe  fruits  except  the  nuts 
of  the  previous  year,  the  vine  is  just  expected  to  flower  and  the 
13omegranate  to  bud;  and  in  the  garden  of  the  fields  there  is  the 
bud,  the  flower,  and  the  tender  grape,  the  fruit  newly  ripe  and 
old  fruit  preserved,  everything  except  spices — for  these  are  found 
only  in  one  garden,  which,  along  with  aromatics,  contains  all 
that  adorn  the  rest,  but  in  perfect  maturity.  These  distinctions 
are  clearly  defined,  and  will  be  found  most  important  in  the 
interpretation  of  the  book.  "VYe  need  scarcely  add,  that  all 
those  varied  seasons  of  spring  and  autumn,  followed  by  spring 
and  autumn  again,  could  have  no  place  in  any  bridal  festival 
of  earth. 

PART  I.  CHAP.  II.  8-15. — CALL  TO  MEET  THE  BRIDEGROOM. 

The  Bride,  after  a  long  sleep,  awakened  by  the  Bridegroom's 
sudden  call,  descries  his  distant  and  transient  appearance,  as 
of  a  hart  leaping  from  hill  to  hill,  yet  swiftly  drawing  nearer, 


CALL   TO   MEET   THE   BRIDEGROOM.  39 

liid  now  and  again  seen  (8,  9);  she  hears  his  loving  invitation 
to  come  forth  and  meet  him  in  the  vineyard  (10);  receives  his 
assurance  that  the  cold  and  rainy  winter  is  now  past,  and  the 
summer  6f  hope  and  joy,  of  sunshine  and  of  song,  is  come  (11, 
12,  13,  14);  and  finally  has  the  injunction  laid  on  her  and  her 
assistants  to  remove  all  that  is  noxious  to  the  vines,  which  are 
now  full  of  richest  promise  (15). 

PART  II.  CHAP.  II.  16-III.  5.— PvESPONSE  TO  THE  CALL. 

The  Bride  has  heard  and  rejoiced  in  the  call  of  the  King, 
but  he  has  invited  her  to  come  forth  to  him  without  waiting 
to  meet  her,  addressing  her  and  then  withdrawing.  She  com- 
forts herself,  however,  with  the  thought  that  he  is  indeed  her 
own,  and  is  feeding  his  flock  at  no  great  distance  (16);  then 
entreats  him  to  return  and  remain  (17),  seeks  him  in  solitude 
and  darkness  (iii.  1),  and  seeks  him  again  more  earnestly  and 
openly  (2).  In  this  search  she  meets  Jerusalem's  watchmen, 
who  are  not  introduced  in  the  Bride's  inquiry  at  the  beginning 
of  the  Song,  probably  because  there  were  no  living  prophets 
to  point  to  the  Messiah  after  the  close  of  the  Old  Testament 
dispensation.  In  another  midnight  search  in  the  fifth  chapter 
she  meets  with  other  watchmen,  who  hate  both  her  and  her 
Beloved,  and  of  them  she  never  thinks  to  inquire  for  the  King; 
but  the  present  watchmen  are  near  to  the  Messiah,  friendly 
and  helpful  to  his  Bride,  and  immediately  on  leaving  them 
she  finds  Him  (3,  4).  In  so  far  this  repeats  the  first  scene  of 
finding  the  Beloved,  but  with  the  marked  and  characteristic 
difierence,  that  this  second  time  she  will  not  let  him  go  till  he 
has  come  home  to  her  mother's  house.  The  joy  is  less  ecstatic 
than  the  first;  there  is  no  left  hand  under  the  head  nor  right 
hand  embracing  as  in  that  first  communion,  but  it  equally  re- 
sults in  fulness  of  divine  fellowship  and  holy  rest. 

Canticle  III.    Chap.  iii.  6-v.  1. 

Subject. —  The  Bridegroom  with  the  Bride. 
The  attentive  examination  of  this  third  Canticle  cannot  fail 


40  SUMMARY    OF    THE   SONG. 

to  produce  the  conviction  of  very  special  design  pervading  the 
structure  of  the  Song  of  Songs.  It  stands  in  the  center  of  the 
book,  and  is  altogether  remarkable  and  peculiar  in  these  three 
respects:  First,  in  its  conduct,  which  in  distinction  from  the 
rest  of  the  book,  is  undertaken  by  the  Bridegroom ;  while  the 
Bride,  who  is  elsewhere  the  principal  sj^eaker,  utters  only  a 
brief  sentence  toward  its  close.  Second,  in  its  terms,  for  the 
Bridegroom,  M'ho  is  elsewhere  either  King  or  Solomon,  is  here 
twice  called  King  Solomon;  and,  as  is  often  noticed,  the  Bride 
is  now  called  the  Spouse  and  never  before,  and  never  after 
either,  which  is  always  overlooked,  while  the  title  is  repeated 
six  times  in  this  single  Canticle;  the  term  Sister  being  likewise 
applied  to  her  four  times,  and,  except  in  the  first  verse  of  the 
next  song,  nowhere  else.  Third,  and  most  of  all  in  its  scenes,  the 
Bridegroom  and  the  Bride  being  never  for  a  moment  separate; 
no  distance,  no  absence,  no  complaint  throughout,  wdth  which 
all  the  other  songs  abound  from  the  first  verse. of  the  book  to 
the  last. 

PART  I.  CHAP.  III.  6-11. — THE  KING  IN  HIS  BRIDAL  CHARIOT. 

There  is  seen  a  royal  bridal  palanquin,  the  entire  account 
of  which  agrees  with  the  tabernacle,  and  more  especially  with 
the  Holiest  of  all  and  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant,  where  Christ 
dwells  with  his  people,  and  which  was  borne  just  like  an 
Eastern  palanquin  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Levites.  It  comes 
out  of  the  wilderness  (6) ;  is  accompanied  by  the  glorious  pillar 
and  by  clouds  of  incense  (6) ;  approaching  nearer,  is  seen  to  be 
surrounded  by  the  host  of  Israel  (7,  8);  coming  quite  up,  is 
minutely  described  by  its  frame  of  wood,  its  silver-socketed 
pillars,  its  seat  (mercy-seat)  of  gold,  its  covering  veil  of  pur- 
ple,, its  stone  pavement  of  the  tables  of  the  law  in  the  midst  of 
the  ark.  A  tesselated  floor  is  possible  in  a  royal  palanquin, 
but  why  this  pavement  should  be  called  the  '  midst  thereof,' 
and  how  it  should  be  '  love,'  is  simple  and  obvious  in  reference 
only  to  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant  (9,  10).  It  is  the  ark  but 
more  glorious :  instead  of  Shittim  wood,  the  wood  of  Lebanon ; 
instead  of  pillars  socketed  with  silver,  pillars  composed  of  sil- 
ver; and  instead  of  the  pavement  of  law,  a  pavement  written 


THE   GAEDEX   OF   SPICES.  41 

over  with  love.  In  this  royal  chariot  the  daughters  of  Zion 
are  invited  to  behold  the  King,  accompanied  by  his  Bride,  and 
adorned  with  the  nuptial  crown  (11).     (Targum,  WyclifFe.) 

PART  II.  CHAP.  IV.  1-7. — BEAUTY  OF   THE  BRIDE. 

The  King  commends  the  faultless  loveliness  of  the  Bride, 
whom  he  has  not  yet  married  or  taken  home  to  his  Father's 
house,  but  has  betrothed  for  his  wife  (1-5) ;  he  then  intimates 
that  as  the  shadows  of  evening  are  now  drawing  on,  he  must 
soon  leave  her  and  withdraw  to  his  own  resting-place  in  the 
mountain  of  myrrh,  till  the  dawn  of  morning  (6);  but  he 
lingers  awhile  ere  he  goes,  and  anew  expresses  his  admira- 
tion (7). 

PART  III.  CHAP.  IV.  8-V.  2. — GARDEN  OF  SPICES. 

The  King,  in  a  scene  designedly  impossible,  meets  his  be- 
trothed bride  on  the  summit  of  Lebanon,  and  invites  her  to 
leave  its  dangerous  precincts  along  with  him  (8);  expresses  the 
delight  he  takes  in  her  company  and  conversation  (9-11); 
directs  her  to  look  from  the  top  of  Amana  upon  a  garden  at 
the  foot  of  Lebanon  which  he  has  prepared  for  himself  and 
her,  abounding  with  fountains  of  water  and  with  all  fruitful 
and  fragrant  trees  (12,  13,  14,  15);  calls  upon  the  winds  to 
refresh  this  garden  (16);  is  invited  by  her  to  enter  it  (16); 
enters  and  partakes  both  of  its  fruits  and  of  a  prepared  feast, 
inviting  his  friends  who  are  themselves  the  Bride,  to  share  it 
with  him  (v.  1). 

The  Second  Garden  of  the  Song  is  here  described.  It  is 
distinguished  from  the  rest  by  its  spices,  which  are  found  in 
none  of  the  other  gardens,  and  by  the  perfection  of  all  its  pro- 
ducts. The  pomegranates  and  pleasant  fruits  are  all  ripe  for 
an  autumnal  feast,  the  spacious  royal  enclosure  has  added  both 
honey  and  milk,  and  the  grapes  have  now  been  pressed  into 
new  wine.  The  garden  is  obviously  the  King's,  and  by  him 
provided  for  the  Bride,  though  he  calls  it  also  hers  as  his  es- 
poused wife;  but  the  Bride  is  never  herself  the  garden.  (Wy- 
cliffe,  Dathe.) 


42  SUMMARY   OF   THE   SONG. 


Canticle  IY. — Chap.  v.  2-Chap.  viii.  5. 

Subject. —  The  Bridegroom'' s  Withdrawal  and  Reappearance, 
and  the  Bride's  Glory. 

It  is  evident  that  we  have  now  passed  the  centre  of  the 
Song ;  for  while  the  terms  of  commendation  on  the  part  of  the 
Bridegroom  are  amplified,  the  tokens  of  endearment  are  gradu- 
ally diminished,  and  then  entirely  withdrawn.  The  word 
Spouse  has  ceased  already  with  the  last  verse  of  the  preceding 
Canticle;  the  word  Sister  ceases  with  the  first  of  this.  On 
the  return  of  the  Bridegroom  in  the  sixth  chapter  (4-10),  some 
of  the  previous  terms  of  affection  are  resumed,  but  thence  on- 
ward till  the  end  of  the  book,  during  more  than  two  chapters, 
he  does  not  use  a  single  expression  of  endearment.  Even  did 
we  grant  (which  we  cannot)  that  the  words  'O  Love'  in  chap, 
vii.  6  are  employed  by  him,  it  would  scarcely  aifect  this  state- 
ment; because  the  expression  itself  is  comparatively  distant, 
and  in  the  jtreceding  songs  we  find  no  parallel,  till  retracing 
backwards  we  pass  beyond  the  ninth  verse  of  the  first  chapter. 
There  the  King  calls  the  Bride  my  Love,  or  my  friend,  on  her 
first  finding  him ;  but  previously  he  had  only  called  her  Fairest 
among  women  (i.  8) ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  book  he  gives  her 
no  more  affectionate  title  than,  Thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gar- 
dens (viii.  13).  It  is  impossible  to  observe  this  without  con- 
fessing great  peculiarity  in  the  structure  of  this  Song  of  Songs, 
unaccountable  on  any  ordinary  principles.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  expressions  of  affection  on  the  part  of  the  Bride  maintain 
or  increase  their  intensity  to  the  last,  but  under  a  sense  of  re- 
newed absence  and  distance,  as  at  the  commencement  of  the 
book. 

PART  I.  CHAP.  V.  2.-VI.  3. — SLEEP  AND  SORROW. 

The  scene  is  now  transferred  from  the  royal  park  and  gar- 
dens at  the  foot  of  Lebanon  to  humble  wedded  life  in  the  city, 
and  the  Bride  sleeping  in  her  own  lowly  cottage  refuses  the 
King  her  husband,  who  greatly  needs  some  hospitable  roof 


THE   bridegroom's    RETURN.  43 

(2,  3);  a  scene  quite  accordant  with  her  original  position,  but 
most  inconsistent  with  her  present  rank,  and  explicable  only 
by  allegory,  as  is  also  the  fact  of  the  King  requiring  such 
hospitality.  She  at  length  arises  ashamed  and  sorrowful  (4,  5); 
opens  to  admit  him  but  finds  him  gone  (6);  searches  for  him 
through  the  city,  and  is  unveiled  and  wounded  by  the  watch- 
men, who  are  altogether  diifereut  from  those  she  consulted 
formerly,  and  from  whom  her  only  desire  is,  not  information 
but  escape  (7).  She  then  tells  her  grief  to  certain  friendly 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  whom  she  meets;  is  by  them  asked 
concerning  her  Beloved  (8,  9);  and  gives  in  reply  a  full  and 
a  glorious  description  of  the  King  (10-16).  She  is  asked  by 
them  further  which  way  he  has  gone,  in  order  that  they  may 
accompany  her  in  the  search  (vi.  1);  recollects  herself,  and 
answers  that  he  has  gone  into  his  garden  (2;)  and  reassures 
herself  with  the  consolation,  that  notwithstanding  all  that  has 
happened  she  is  still  the  King's,  he  is  still  hers,  and  he  is 
feeding  his  flock  at  no  great  distance,  though  by  her  unseen  (3). 

PAET  II.  CHAP,  VI.  4-10. — THE  BRIDEGROOM'S  RETURX. 

The  Bridegroom  suddenly  reappears,  and  for  the  last  time 
formally  addresses  the  Bride,  any  future  salutations  not  ex- 
ceeding a  single  sentence.  His  address,  however,  is  more 
brief  than  before ;  partly  rehearsing  the  same  words,  partly 
adding  others  expressive  of  greater  glory  in  the  Bride  (4-7). 
He  then  contrasts  the  queens,  the  wives  of  second  rank,  and 
the  maids  of  honor,  that  adorned  or  dishonored  the  courts  of 
kings,  with  the  one  Bride  whom  he  had  espoused,  who  was  her 
mother's  only  daughter  and  the  single  object  of  his  affection; 
and  describes  her  as  admired,  and  beheld  witli  awe-struck 
wonder  by  them  all  (8-10).  It  is  unintelligible  how  any  one, 
believing  in  this  book  as  a  portion  of  divine  truth,  could  in- 
terpret these  words  as  referring  to  Solomon  possessing  at  the 
time  such  a  number  of  queens,  and  now  introducing  another. 
Polygamy  was  then  tolerated  for  the  hardness  of  men's  hearts, 
but  falsehood  could  never  be  legalized;  and  the  words  so  in- 
terpreted are  such  as  no  sincere  man  could  possibly  utter,  no 


44  SUMMAP.Y   OF   THE   SONG. 

woman  could  ever  believe,  and  the  Spirit  of  truth  could  never 
sanction.  But,  like  all  the  book,  they  arc  manifestly  the  words 
of  pure  allegory. 

In  substance,  this  description  of  the  assembled  spectators 
of  Messiah's  marriage  is  the  same  as  David  gives  in  the  forty- 
fifth  Psalm.  For  the  Queen  of  Tyre  are  here  substituted 
threescore  queens,  representing  sixty  sovereign  courts;  the 
kings'  daughters  or  princesses  are  here  the  concubines,  or  king's 
wives  of  secondary  dignity;  and  the  honorable  women  of  the 
Psalm  are  hci^e  the  virgins  without  number — constituting  a 
vast  and  dazzling  assemblage  of  witnesses.    (Sanctius.) 


PART  III.  CHAP.  VI.  11-VII.  10. — GLORY  OF  THE  BRIDE. 

This  scene  commences  with  a  description  of  the  gaeden 
OF  NUTS,  which  wants  the  tender  grape  and  swelling  fig  of  the 
first  garden  of  flowers  (ii.  12);  the  myrrh,  and  calamus,  and 
the  pleasant  fruits  of  the  second  garden  of  spices  (v.  1);  and  is 
visited  not  for  the  sake  of  fruit  either  green  or  mature,  but  in 
order  to  watch  the  first  bursting  of  the  buds  of  an  expected 
spring,  the  blossoming  of  the  vine,  and  the  budding  of  the 
pomegranate  (11).  There  are,  however,  nuts  in  this  garden, 
either  gathered  the  previous  autumn  and  laid  up  at  the  gates, 
or  still  hanging  on  the  trees  before  the  first  signs  of  an  early 
spring. 

The  Bride  has  gone  down  alone  to  the  garden,  but  is  sud- 
denly transported  with  desire  to  return  to  lier  Lord  and  King; 
her  soul  making  her  like  the  chariots  of  Ammi-nadib,  or  of 
the  attendants  of  the  Prince  (Gesenius);  or  in  other  words  like 
the  chariots  of  God,  which  are  tiiousands  of  angels  (12). 

The  dau2;hters  of  Jerusalem,  some  of  whom  had  been  anxious 
to  see  the  King,  nov/  desire  in  his  absence  to  see  the  Bride, 
whom  they  netreat  to  return;  at  the  same  time  calling  her  by 
the  new  name  of  Shulamite,  or  Bride  of  Solomon  the  Prince 
of  Peace,  and  afterwards  also  Prince's  daughter  (13).  She  had 
first  intimated  to  them  that  whatever  deformity  they  might 
see  in  her,  there  was  comeliness  also  (i.  5);  and  she  now  re- 


THE   GLOEY   OF   THE   BRIDE.  45 

minds  them  that  in  the  midst  of  comeliness,  there  is  still 
deformity  (13). 

The  daughters  of  Jerusalem  now  survey  the  Bride,  not  from 
the  head  downward  as  the  King  does,  but  from  the  feet  up- 
ward (vii.  1);  the  description  of  the  beautiful  shoes,  with  which 
the  portrait  commences,  proving,  beyond  all  controversy,  that 
the  whole  is  a  delineation  of  the  Shulamite's  attire.  There  is 
a  tendency  in  all  languages,  and  especially  in  such  as  are  more 
simple,  to  attach  to  the  dress  the  names  of  the  corresponding 
parts  of  the  person ;  and  the  whole  account  exemplifies  the 
statement  of  the  apostle,  that  'on  our  uncomely  parts  we  be- 
stow more  abundant  comeliness.'  There  is  the  perfect  pro- 
portion, and  firm  knitting  of  the  entire  person  (1);  the  clasp 
of  the  girdle,  set  with  rubies,  is  like  a  full  cup  sparkling  with 
wine  (2) ;  the  clothing  of  w^rought  gold,  described  by  David 
in  the  forty-fifth  Psalm,  is  compared  to  a  heap  of  golden  wheat 
(2) ;  and  the  girdle  of  white  needle-work,  which  there  adorns 
the  golden  robe,  is  here  a  circle  of  lilies  encompassing  the 
wheat  (2).  From  foot  to  head  the  Bride  is  so  beautiful  that 
the  King,  who  does  not  speak,  is  notwithstanding  a  captivated 
spectator  (5) ;  and  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  cannot  refrain 
from  expressing  their  own  affection  toward  her  (6).  They  re- 
sume the  description  by  comparing  her  to  a  palm  clustered 
with  fruit,  and  one  of  them  for  herself,  or  in  name  of  the  rest, 
])lucks  the  clusters  (8).  She  ends  the  scene  by  calling  the 
King  her  own  Beloved  (v.  9),  and  by  declaring  along  with  the 
Bride,  that  she  also  is  his  (10).  This  terminates  the  interesting- 
history  of  Jerusalem's  daughters;  first  charged  not  to  disturb 
the  Bridegroom  (ii.  7,  iii.  5),  next  inquiring  into  his  character, 
as  to  them  a  stranger  (v.  9),  then  asking  where  he  is  to  be 
found  and  seeking  him  along  with  the  Bride  (vi.  1),  then  in 
his  absence  admiring  and  loving  the  Bride  who  represents  him 
(vi.  13 ;  vii.  1-6),  then  uniting  themselves  to  the  Bride  (8), 
and  calling  the  King  no  longer  her  Beloved,  but  their  own 
Beloved  (9,  10).  These  or  other  daughters  of  Jerusalem  are 
charged  not  to  disturb  the  Beloved  (viii.  4) :  but  there  is  no 
further  account  of  them. 


46  SUMMARY   OF   THE  SONG. 


PART  IV.  CHAP.  VII.  11-VIII.  4. — GAKDEX  IN  THE  FIELDS. 

This  is  the  last  garden,  or  vineyard,  of  which  there  is  any 
special  account,  or  rather  it  is  the  last  special  account  of  the 
garden  or  vineyard  of  the  Lord ;  for  they  are  all  included  in 
one,  but  are  distinguished  by  position,  or  production,  or  state 
of  progress.  The  first  character  of  this  is  remoteness,  for,  to 
to  reach  it,  the  fields  must  be  crossed ;  and  not  only  so,  but 
the  distance  is  so  great  as  not  to  admit  of  return  the  same  day; 
and  there  must  be  lodging  in  the  villages  or  hamlets,  which 
were  to  be  found  in  the  remoter  jiortions  of  the  vast  enclosure 
of  the  royal  park  (11).  The  next  characteristic  of  this  garden 
is  the  universality  of  its  productions,  or  rather  of  its  seasons, 
spring,  summer,  autumn,  all  included.  There  are  no  spices 
mentioned,  neither  is  the  object  to  gather  nuts;  but  there  is 
the  bud  of  the  pomegranate,  the  flower  of  the  vine,  the  tender 
grape,  all  manner  of  ripe  fruits  newly  plucked,  and  of  old 
fruits  carefully  preserved  (12,  13). 

There  is  afterwards  an  instructive  expression  of  desire  on 
the  part  of  the  Bride,  that  the  King  were  to  her  as  her  brother; 
not  an  infant  brother,  for  she  is  to  conduct,  not  to  carry  him 
home ;  but  one  who  in  his  infancy  had  sucked  the  same  breasts 
with  herself,  her  own  mother's  son  whom  she  might  openly 
kiss  (viii.  1).  Tliis  carries  us  quite  back  to  the  first  scene  of 
the  Song — 'Let  him  kiss  me;'  and  seems  to  intimate,  that  all 
that  was  intermediate  had  for  the  present  passed  away.  If  he 
were  now  as  a  brother,  she  would  bring  him  into  her  mother's 
house,  and  then  his  left  hand  should  be  under  her  head  with 
his  right  embracing  (2,  3).  Xow,  every  part  of  this  j^rayer 
had  been  answered  long  ago.  The  King  had  been  as  her 
Brother,  for  again  and  again  he  called  her  Sister  (iv.  9,  etc.), 
she  had  already  led  him  into  her  mother's  house  (iii.  4),  his 
left  hand  had  been  under  her  head,  his  right  hand  had  em- 
braced (ii.  6).  But  all  this  has  ended  with  the  betrothing 
supper  at  the  close  of  the  third  and  central  song  (v.  1).  From 
the  hour  when  his  head  was  filled  with  dew,  and  liis  locks 
with  the  drops  of  the  niglit,  all  this  holy  familiarity  has  ceased, 


THE    LITTLE    SISTER.  47 

and  lie  has  never  since  called  her  either  sister  or  spouse.  She 
prays  therefore,  and  that  most  earnestly,  that  she  may  so 
jiossess  him  again  as  in  those  cherished  seasons.  Meanwhile, 
althongh  she  cannot  declare  that  in  this  fullest  sense  his  right 
hand  does  embrace,  but  only  that  she  greatly  desires  it,  yet  in 
spirit  she  finds  it  true,  and  charges  Jerusalem's  daughters  not 
to  break  the  divine  repose. 


Canticle  V. — Chap.  viii.  5-14. 

Subject. — The  Little  Sister. 

The  Bride  is  seen  coming  up  from  the  wilderness  leaning 
on  her  Beloved,  and  excites  the  inquiry  of  Jerusalem's  daugh- 
ters (5).  The  King  reminds  her  of  her  outcast,  helpless  origin 
(5).  She  desires  to  be  set  as  a  seal  on  his  heart  and  arm, 
which  implies  or  contemplates  personal  absence  (6),  and  de- 
scribes the  strength,  exclusiveness,  and  unchangeableness  of 
love  (7).  The  virgins  who  constitute  the  Bride,  and  in  the 
beginning  of  the  Song  speak  of  themselves  as  many  (i.  4),  now 
consult  together  about  a  younger  sister  of  the  Bride,  soon  to 
be  proposed  for  marriage  to  the  King,  and  promise  to  give  her 
every  aid  and  ornament  in  their  power.  They  compare  her 
to  the  two  principal  parts  of  a  temple,  the  wall  and  the  door, 
and  offer  suitable  adornings  in  either  case  (9).  The  sister, 
encouraged,  rejoices  in  these  gifts,  which  she  has  now  received; 
and  still  more  in  the  fact  that  from  the  King  himself  she  has 
oljtained  favor  or  peace  (marg.),  and  has  thus  become  also  the 
daughter  of  Peace,  the  Shulamite  (10).  As  herself  now  the 
Shulamite,  speaking  of  her  husband  Solomon,  she  narrates  the 
history  of  his  vineyard  which  has  been  assigned  to  unfaithful 
husbandmen,  who  have  not  returned  its  revenues  to  the  King 
(11).  She  next  addresses  the  King  himself;  thanks  him  for 
giving  her  this  vineyard  to  be  her  own,  instead  of  being  a  mere 
slave-girl  as  at  the  first  in  the  vineyard  of  strangers  (i.  6);  and 
undertakes  to  render  the  full  return  of  the  vines,  which  the 
former  husbandmen  had  appropriated  to  themselves,  at  the 
same  time  apportioning  a  suitable  allowance  to  the  keepers 


48  SUMMARY   OF   THE   SONG. 

(12).  The  King  then  from  a  distance  addresses  her,  as  having 
now  taken  up  her  abode  in  the  vineyard  or  gardens,  and  having 
its  friendly  keepers,  his  companions,  attentive  to  her  voice,  and 
invites  her  to  speak  to  himself  (13).  She  replies  by  entreating 
him  to  come  quickly  over  the  distant  and  lofty  mountains  (14). 
This  whole  Song  of  Solomon  commences  in  absence  between 
the  Bridegroom  and  the  Bride,  which  soon  terminates  in  pres- 
ence and  mutual  delight  (Cant.  I).  This  is  followed  by  a 
second  absence  with  a  similar  termination  (Cant.  II).  Then 
succeeds  a  much  longer  and  more  varied  season  of  unbroken 
intercourse  and  fellowship,  closed  with  a  bridal  supper  (Cant. 
III).  The  sequel  to  this  feast  is  another  absence,  during  which 
the  Bride  is  subjected  to  great  hardships ;  then  a  brief  and 
aifectionate  intercourse  with  the  King,  in  which  he  accosts  her 
in  terms  of  higher  commendation,  but  with  greater  distance 
and  reserve;  followed  by  complete  silence  on  his  part,  but  on 
hers  with  earnest  entreaties  for  his  presence  (Cant.  IV).  A 
single  sentence  more  from  the  King,  who  is  again  present  but 
with  higher  majesty  than  ever,  reminds  the  Bride  of  her  out- 
cast condition  when  he  first  looked  upon  her.  Then  follows 
entreaty  by  her  that  he  will  bear  her  on  his  heart  wherever 
he  may  be;  a  brief  and  distant  invitation  from  the  King  to 
address  him,  though  he  will  not  show  himself;  and  an  earnest 
cry  from  the  Bride,  that  he  will  conceal  himself  no  longer 
(Cant.  Y).  What  resemblance  does  all  this  bear  to  any  actual, 
or  any  conceivable  nuptial  history  on  earth? 


CRY   FOE   THE   ADVENT.  49 


VI. 
HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATION. 

Canticle  I. — Chap.  i.  2 — Chap.  ii.  7. 

Time. — Immedlatchj  before  and  after  the  Birth  of  Christ. 

PART  I,  CHAP.  I.  2-8. — THE  CRY  FOR  THE  ADVEMT. 

The  acknowledgment  is  general  or  universal  amongst  the 
Christian  Fathers,  that  the  prayer  in  the  second  verse,  for  the 
kisses  of  his  mouth,  is  the  cry  of  the  ancient  Church  for  the 
coming  of  the  Lord's  Anointed  (ver.  3,  Orig.,  Theod.,  Bern.). 
The  fourth  verse  is  only  a  more  earnest  and  more  argumenta- 
tive presentation  of  the  same  petition;  and  the  scriptural  repre- 
sentatives of  the  true  Hebrew  Church,  immediately  before  the 
birth  of  Christ,  are  Zacharias,  Elizabeth,  Joseph,  Mary,  Sime- 
on, Anna,  the  shepherds  of  Bethlehem,  with  all  them  •  that 
looked  for  redemption  in  Israel.  In  the  fifth  verse,  the  Gen- 
tile Church  is  introduced  under  the  image  of  the  dark  tents  of 
Kedar.  In  connexion  with  this,  the  earliest  interpreters  adduce 
the  instances  of  the  Queen  of  the  South  coming  to  hear  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon;  and  Moses  the  lawgiver  marrying  an 
Ethiopian  woman,  against  whom  arise  the  murmurs  of  Aaron 
and  Miriam,  representing  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem ;  with 
the  promise  that  Ethiopia  shall  stretch  out  her  hands  to  God, — 
the  Ethiopia  of  the  Bible  including  not  only  Africa,  but  Ara- 
bia which  is  Kedar  (Orig.  Tres  Patres).  At  the  end  of  the 
book  the  charge  of  the  vineyard  is  transferred  from  the  Jews 
to  the  Gentiles,  who  had  not  kept  their  own  vineyard.  It  is 
quite  in  keeping  with  this  close,  that  representatives  of  the 
Gentile  Church  should  be  introduced  at  the  commencement; 
and,  in  point  of  fact,  amongst  the  earliest  inquirers  after  Christ 
and  owners  of  his  advent,  were  the  Eastern  sages,  whose  offer- 
ings of  gold,  frankincense,  and  myrrh  have  led  many  to  con- 


50  HISTORICAL   ILLUSTRATION. 

elude  that  they  came  from  Kedar  or  Arabia.  It  need  scarcely 
be  added,  that  to  interpret  the  sun-blackened  Bride  historically 
of  the  Gentile  Church,  no  more  removes  the  character  of  de- 
formity from  the  entire  Church  in  herself,  than  does  the  analo- 
gous representation  of  the  Gentiles  by  the  younger  and  prodigal 
son  in  the  parable.  In  answer  to  all  these  inquiries  and  prayers 
Christ  does  not  yet  speak  personally,  but  through  his  servants  ; 
whether  employing  in  His  ministration  the  light  that  guided 
'  the  star-led  wizards  on  the  Eastern  road,'  or  the  brighter  star 
of  prophecy  shining  in  a  dark  place  till  the  day  dawned. 

PART  II.  CHAP.  I.  9-II.  7. — CHPvIST  BORN  IN  BETHLEHEJI. 

Taking  the  several  utterances  of  the  King  as  the  words  of 
the  Eternal  Son,  now  the  incarnate  Immanuel,  they  were  given 
by  him  of  old  through  Solomon  to  the  Church,  to  which  with- 
out new  expression  they  are  now  applied  by  the  Spirit.  Prophets 
in  Jerusalem,  holy  women  in  Judea,  shepherds  in  the  field, 
and  sages  in  the  East,  with  all  the  expectants  of  redemption, 
constitute  a  goodly  company  comparable  in  numbers,  in  array, 
in  beauty,  and  specially  in  the  ardor  and  swiftness  with  which 
they  have  overtaken  the  King,  to  the  chariots  and  horses  of 
Pharaoh  (9).  The  image  possibly  found  additional  aptitude 
in  the  cavalcade  of  camels  or  white  asses  in  costly  trappings, 
that  bore  the  Eastern  worshippers  to  the  door  of  the  lowly 
house  where  the  young  Child  was.  These  presented  gold  to 
Jesus,  and  probably  wore  both  gold  and  jewels  pendant  from 
their  ears„  and  peradventure  encircling  their  necks.  From 
this  the  Spirit  in  Christ  takes  occasion  to  compare  the  graces 
of  the  Church  to  the  most  precious  ornaments ;  and  promises 
to  add  the  crown  of  royalty  to  the  Bride  of  the  great  King 
(10,  11).  The  Church  then  expresses  her  joy  that  the  King 
of  heaven  had  come  to  dwell  among  men,  spreading  his  royal 
table  in  the  midst  of  them.  The  body  of  Jesus  was  infantine 
as  yet,  but  it  was  the  temple  or  palace  in  which  the  Eternal 
Word  was  dwelling ;  and  it  w^as  fit  that  the  treasures  of  myrrh 
and  frankincense  brought  from  the  East  should  be  opened,  and 
the  house  be  filled  with  the  odour.     He  is  himself,  however, 


CHEIST   BOIIN   IN   BETHLEHEM.  51 

the  true  myrrh,  the  fragrant  cluster  of  camphire,  the  beauteous 
cluster  of  the  vine  to  be  crushed  in  the  wine-press  for  the  joy 
of  all  nations  (12,  13,  14).  The  King  had  said  of  old  that  it 
liis  Bride  forgot  her  father's  house,  he  would  delight  in  her 
beauty ;  she  hath  done  it  by  coming  from  far  and  confessing 
her  darkness,  and  he  now  owns  her  comeliness  (15).  At  his  first 
meeting  with  the  little  Church  in  Jerusalem  he  is  presented 
along  with  the  sacrificial  doves,  the  most  beautiful  probably 
that  his  parents  could  find,  and  to  their  beauty  he  compares  his 
waiting  people  (15).  The  Church  had  called  him  fairer  than 
the  sons  of  men  while  unseen,  and  seeing  him  she  cannot  but 
repeat  the  praise;  and  his  presence,  which  to  the  wise  men 
converts  the  lowly  roof  into  a  royal  banquet-hall,  turns  also 
the  resting-place  of  Joseph,  and  Mary,  and  the  Holy  Child, 
on  the  grass  prepared  for  the  cattle,  into  a  verdant  lawn  on 
which  they  joyfully  repose  (16).  Either  the  same  royal  majesty 
transforms  for  them  the  rude  fittings  of  the  stable  into  cedar 
beams  and  carved  ceilings,  or  the  scene  is  transferred  to  the 
Lord's  house  in  Jerusalem  when  the  Babe  is  presented  (17). 
The  Child  Jesus  in  Spirit  then  calls  himself  the  Eose  of  Sharon 
and  the  Lily  of  the  Valleys,  which  from  the  earliest  ages  have 
been  expressly  interpreted  of  his  incarnation  (ii.  1,  Origen, 
Theodoret).  The  image  is  peculiarly  significant  as  a  Rosebud, 
faultless  and  absolutely  perfect,  yet  possessing  a  loveliness  that 
is  to  unfold  and  display  itself  from  hour  to  hour.  The  Church 
likewise,  because  his  l)ride,  He  praises  as  a  lovely  lily.  She 
rejoices  that  her  weary  spirit  has  found  rest  at  last;  confesses 
that  the  King's  chambers,  into  which  the  ancient  church  had 
been  introduced,  were  but  empty  when  contrasted  with  those 
now  before  her,  and  contained  no  token  of  love  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  Babe  in  Bethlehem,  the  Saviour  born  in  the 
city  of  David;  and  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost  she  has  nothing 
more  on  earth  to  desire  (2,  3,  4,  5,  6). 

Canticle  II. — Chap.  ii.  8-Chap.  iii.  5. 
Time. — From  the  appearance  of  John  till  the  Baptism  of  Jesus. 
The  absence  of  direct  speech  by  the  Biidegroom  through- 

D 


52  HISTORICAL   ILLUSTRATION. 

out  this  Canticle^  corresponds  exactly  to  the  period  of  John  the 
Baptist's  ministry.  Personally,  Jesus  is  silent  during  that 
ministration ;  in  Spirit,  he  speaks  to  John,  as  one  of  the  bridal 
virgins,  and  through  him  as  his  messenger  to  all  the  rest;  but 
it  is  not  till  the  close  of  the  ministry  [of  John]  that  he  pre- 
sents himself  to  the  Church. 

The  King's  Vineyard  is  now  for  the  first  time  introduced; 
and  an  attentive  examination  of  all  the  passages  in  which  the 
word  occurs,  will  lead  to  the  conclusion  that  in  the  Song  of 
Solomon,  the  Garden  or  Vineyard  uniformly  signifies  'the 
Kingdom  of  heaven.'  The  insertion  of  the  italic  is  after  the 
Garden  Enclosed  in  the  fourth  chapter  (12),  tends  to  obscure 
this  important  point,  as  if  the  Bride  herself  or  the  Church  were 
called  the  garden.  Now,  it  is  most  true  that  the  Bride  is  a 
garden  enclosed;  and  it  is  just  to  apply  these  words  to  her  in 
a  secondary  sense ;  but  she  is  a  garden  enclosed  because  the 
Kingdom  of  heaven  within  which  she  is,  as  well  as  it  within 
her,  is  an  enclosed  garden.  That  Kingdom  of  heaven  in- 
cludes both  the  redeeming  Bridegroom  and  the  redeemed  Bride, 
yet  is  neither;  but  is  a  garden  or  vineyard  provided  by  the 
King  at  the  cost  of  his  own  blood,  and  belonging  to  both,  in 
which  they  labor  together,  walk  together,  and  feast  together. 
It  includes  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  the  garden  of  the  Se- 
pulchre, and  even  the  garden  of  Paradise  above;  the  upper 
room  of  the  passover,  the  upper  room  of  Pentecost,  and  Christ's 
name  with  two  or  three  [met]  together,  in  the  utmost  ends  of 
the  earth. 

All  the  passages  agree  if  we  hold  that  the  garden  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  or,  in  the  words  of  an  old  Bible,  that  it 
'sifrnifieth  the  kingdom  of  Christ.'  But  while  the  Bride  is 
nowhere  called  the  garden,  she  is  often  or  always  expressly 
distinguished  from  it.  Here  she  is  invited  by  the  King  to 
enter  it  (ii.  10);  again,  she  says  that  he  has  repaired  to  it  when 
she  is  not  there,  'My  beloved  has  gone  down  into  his  garden' 
(vi.  2);  then  again,  she  descends  into  it,  'I  went  down  into 
the  garden'  (vi.  11);  and  finally,  she  is  said  to  abide  in  it, 
'Thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gardens'  (viii.  13);  that  is,  remain- 
ing within  the  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth. 


JOHN  HERALDS   THE  COMING   CHRIST.  53 

In  this  second  Canticle  the  swelling  of  the  fig,  and  the  ap- 
pearing of  the  tender  grape  in  the  vineyard,  with  opening 
flowers,  songs  of  birds,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle,  proclaim 
not  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  mature,  but,  in  the  words 
of  John  the  Baptist,  that  4he  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.' 
The  winter  and  the  rain  have  generally  been  interpreted  of 
the  clouds  and  darkness  that  preceded  the  coming  of  Christ 
(Theodoret) ;  certain  eminent  Hebrew  expositors  understand 
the  singing  of  birds  as  among  the  tokens  that  shall  precede 
the  coming  of  INIessiah,  and  take  the  prophet  Elias  to  be  the 
voice  of  the  turtle;  and  this  turtle's  voice  early  Christian  in- 
terpreters have  expressly  applied  to  John  the  Baptist.  (Gregory 
Nys.,  Tres  Patres.) 

PART  I.  CHAP.  IT.  8-15. — JOHX  HERALDS  THE  COMIXG  CHRIST. 

After  a  long  silence,  John  the  Baptist  hears  and  proclaims 
Jesus  approaching.  He  is  seen  as  on  the  highest  hills  in  his 
first  descent  from  heaven  to  earth  (8);  and  has  since  come 
nearer  in  preparation  to  meet  the  Church;  yet  is  more  hid 
than  w'hen  he  first  appeared  on  the  mountain  top  as  the  Babe 
of  Bethlehem,  for  his  subsequent  seclusion  is  as  of  one  close 
at  hand  but  concealed  by  a  wall  (9).  But  again  he  begins  to 
reveal  himself,  coming  forth  from  behind  the  high  wall,  and 
looking  as  through  a  latticed  window,  partly  seen  and  partly 
hid,  standing  now  in  the  very  midst  of  the  people,  though  not 
yet  known  and  embraced  (10).  John  proclaims  the  winter  of 
displeasure  past  (11),  the  warm  rays  of  the  Sun  of  Righteous- 
ness begun  to  shine,  the  good  tidings  of  joy  sounding,  and  the 
beauteous  grapes  already  found  on  the  Good  Vine  whence  is 
to  be  pressed  the  rich  wine  that  shall  give  life  to  a  perishing 
world  (12,  13).  Through  John,  Jesus  calls  the  Bride,  and  in- 
vites her  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  (13);  and,  moved  by 
the  heavenly  call,  the  people  flock  like  a  cloud  of  doves  from 
their  hiding  places,  even  Jerusalem  and  all  Jndca  (14).  But 
the  sight  of  many  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadduoees  along  v.'ith 
them  evokes  a  loud  note  of  warning  from  the  prophet  (15). 


54  HISTOKICAL    ILLUSTEATION. 

PART  II.  CHAP.  II.  16-III.  5. — JOHN'S  DISCIPLES  SEEK  AND  FIND  CHRIST. 

John  tlie  Baptist's  ministry  having  reawakened  an  intense 
desire  for  him  that  was  to  come,  the  hope  of  the  rising  morn 
makes  the  night  seem -long  till  the  breaking  of  the  day  (17). 
The  souls  that  wait  for  the  Consolation  of  Israel  first  of  all 
seek  him  by  night  on  their  beds  (iii.  1),  oi:,  in  New  Testament 
language,  'sitting  in  darkness,  and  musing  in  their  hearts 
concerning  him ;'  then  they  rise  and  go  about  the  streets  in 
open  quest  of  him,  and  send  publicly  to  John,  that  most 
vigilant  of  Jerusalem's  watchmen,  to  ask  for  Christ  (2).  But 
both  their  heart  musings  and  public  inquiries  end  in  disap- 
pointment, for  they  find  not  him  whom  their  soul  loveth, 
Jesus  himself  (2,  3);  yet  they  have  scarcely  passed  the  watch- 
men when  they  meet  him,  and  hear  the  voice  from  heaven, 
*  This  is  my  beloved  Son'  (4).  This  time  they  do  not  kiss  him 
and  then  say.  Let  me  depart  in  peace;  or  worship  him  and 
straightway  return  to  the  East ;  or  see  him  lying  in  the  manger 
and  go  back  to  their  fields  and  flocks ;  but  they  '  hold  him  and 
v/ill  not  let  him  go  till  they  bring  him  to  their  mother's 
house;'  that  is,  till  they  have  the  assurance  that  Jesus  has 
indeed  come  to  'dwell  among  them,  full  of  grace  and  truth'  (4). 

Canticle  III. — Chap.  iii.  6-Chap.  v.  1. 

Time. — From  Okrlsfs  Return  out  of  tho  Wilderness  till  the  Last  Supper. 

All  the  various  characteristics  of  this  Canticle  correspond 
exactly  with  tho  season  of  Christ's  ministry  on  earth.  First, 
He  then  takes  charge  personally  of  every  thing  regarding  the 
Kingdom  of  heaven,  himself,  or  his  Church,  down  to  the  an- 
swering of  secret  communings  and  thoughts  against  himself  or 
his  disciples;  whereas  both  before  and  since,  the  charge  has 
been  left  with  the  Church,  under  the  guidance  of  his  Word 
and  Spirit  and  the  ruling  of  his  providence.  Secondly,  He  is 
then  proclaimed  as  King,  King  of  Salem,  King  of  Peace,  King 
Solomon,  in  his  holy  triumph  through  Jerusalem  as  tho  King 
that  comcth  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  title  on  his 


JESUS   EETURXING    FROM   THE   AVILDERXESS.  55 

cross,  The  King  of  the  Jews.  He  has  tlieu  also  become  Brother 
indeed  and  Bridegroom  to  the  Church,  tells  her  everything  he 
has  heard  from  the  Father,  calls  his  disciples  friends,  washes 
their  feet,  suffers  them  to  lean  on  his  bosom,  desires  their 
sympathy;  and  in  every  way  manifests  a  condesension,  which 
shall  never  be  repeated  till,  coming  and  finding  them  watching, 
*He  will  make  them  sit  down  to  meat,  and  will  come  forth  and 
serve  them'  (Luke  xii.  37).  And  tJivrdly,  He  constantly  re- 
minds them  of  the  fact  of  his  personal  presence  with  them — 
'Me  ye  have  not  always;  Yet  a  little  while  I  am  with  you ; 
Can  the  children  of  the  Bridechamber  fast  while  the  Bride- 
groom is  with  them?' 

PART  I.  CHAP.  III.  6-11.— THE  WORD  MADE  FLESH,  AXD  DWELLING 
AMONG  US. 

This  Ark  of  the  covenant,  this  bridal  chariot  of  Solomon,  is 
the  holy  human  body,  or  human  nature  with  true  body  and 
reasonable  soul,  which  the  Eternal  Word  took  to  himself. 
Like  the  completed  tabernacle  set  up  and  filled  with  the  glory 
of  the  Lord,  this  holy  human  body  fully  prepared  became  the 
manifest  dwelling-place  of  God,  when  the  Spirit  descended  on 
Jesus  like  a  dove  and  abode  upon  him.  His  body  Jesus  him- 
self calls  'This  temple,'  and  John  in  like  manner  testifies  that 
the  '  Word  was  made  flesh  and  dwelt'  or  abode  as  in  a  taber- 
nacle, 'among  us,'  for  the  tabernacle  was  nothing  else  than  a 
movable  temple.  Like  the  ai-k  through  the  desert  with  the 
cloudy  pillar  and  pillars  of  incense,  so  Jesus  comes  from  the 
wilderness — the  Eternal  AYord  dwelling  in  the  tabernacle  of 
flesh,  and  the  Spirit  as  clouds  of  fragrant  incense  (6).  He  is 
attended  by  a  detachment  of  the  angelic  host  'bearing  him  up 
in  their  hands;'  holy  guardsmen  armed  with  swords,  as  angels 
are  often  represented,  '  because  of  fear  in  the  night,' — in  the 
dark  night  of  his  agony,  or  with  the  wild  beasts  in  the  desert ; 
and  called  men,  as  often  elsewhere,  and  these  same  angel- 
watchmen  at  the  tomb — 'two  men  in  shining  garments.'  In 
this  tabernacle  or  chariot  the  Church  dwells  and  moves  with 
Christ,  for  in  her  members  she  is  of  his  body,  of  his  flesh,  an 


5G  HISTORICAL    ILLUSTRATION'. 

of  his  bones.  She  was  betrothed  or  espoused  to  him  on  the 
day  when  he  became  Immanuel,  God  with  us;  more  solemnly 
and  openly  when  now  after  his  baptism  she  beholds  his  glory 
full  of  grace  and  truth;  more  fully  still  when,  crowned  with 
thorns,  he  is  offered  up  on  her  behalf — and  all  in  preparation 
for  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  in  the  day  of  his  appearing  (7-11). 

PART  II.  CHAP.  IV.  1-7. — SPOTLESSNESS  OF  THE  CHURCH, 

Christ,  after  cleansing  the  Church  by  the  words  of  eternal 
life,  of  which  his  outward  heaUng  formed  the  type,  declares 
that  she  is  M'ithout  spot  or  wrinkle  (1-5);  intimates  that  the 
night  is  coming  when  no  man  can  work,  and  that  through  the 
incense  of  the  Eternal  Spirit  he  must  soon  be  offered  on  the 
hill  of  frankincense,  or  Mount  Calvary  contiguous  to  Zion, 
and  lie  embalmed  in  that  mountain  of  myrrh  till  the  dawn  of 
day  (6);  yet  tarries  to  comfort  her  with  parting  words  (7). 

PART  III.  CHAP.  IV.  8-V.  1. — THE  CLOSING  SCENES  IN  THE  LIFE 
OF  CHRIST. 

Jesus  takes  his  chosen  disciples  to  the  top  of  a  high  moun- 
tain, and  gives  them  a  foresight  of  the  glory  to  which  he  in- 
vites them,  and  an  assurance  of  their  deliverance  from  all  evil 
(8).  The  penitent  thief,  looking  to  him  with  a  sidelong  glance, 
and  with  but  one  eye  briefly  beholding,  is  addressed  as  a  lively 
type  of  the  rescued  Church,  and  of  all  the  sight  of  Christ  that 
she  obtains  on  earth  (9).  The  love  of  this  penitent  is  the  one 
cheering  cordial  on  the  cross,  refreshing  more  than  wine  (10),  and 
drawing  forth  from  Jesus  the  only  joyful  w^ord  there  uttered, 
his  lips  also  dropping  milk  and  honey  instead  of  gall,  and  him- 
self invited  into  paradise  (11,  12).  Other  followers  are  not 
forgot,  especially  in  their  preparations  for  the  embalming  of  his 
body  (10, 11, 13, 14).)  There  is  the  prepared  garden  of  Para- 
dise for  the  soul,  and  for  the  body  there  is  Joseph  of  Arima- 
thea's  garden  enclosed,  where  for  our  sake  Jesus  longed  to  be 
laid,  and  where  he  was  to  be  embalmed  with  regal  abundance 
of  odours,  typical  of  the  healing  fragrance  of  his  death  (12,  13, 


THE   DEATH   OF   CHRIST.  6t 

14).  There  is  also  the  new  sejjulchre  in  the  rock,  whence  is 
to  issue  the  living  water  for  the  world,  for  it  is  only  in  his 
death  that  Christ  becomes  to  us  the  well  of  life;  but  a  sealed 
stone  covers  over  the  mouth  of  this  well  (12),  from  which  hoAV- 
ever  the  living  fountain  will  soon  burst  forth  (15).  This  whole 
scene,  like  many  of  Christ's  works  and  acts,  is  by  anticipation ; 
and  of  necessity,  because  both  the  Lord's  prayer  for  the  Spirit 
and  his  last  Supper  are  founded  on  his  death  and  resurrection 
as  if  accomplished.  Then  follows  his  prayer  for  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  his  invitation  by  the  disciples  to  the  passover  (16); 
and  finally  the  last  Supper — the  feast  not  so  much  of  marriage, 
as  of  betrothing  and  espousal  through  his  blood,  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb  above. 

There  is  a  very  remarkable  accordance  with  the  death  of 
Christ  in  the  perfection  of  all  the  products  of  this  garden, 
everything  in  Jesus  being  now  perfected.  His  work  is  now 
finished.  There  is  no  beauteous  bud  to  develop,  but  all  has 
brought  forth  its  ripe  fruit,  and  the  rich  grape  of  the  Good 
Vine  is  pressed  for  the  bridal  wine-cup.  It  is  the  same  with 
the  aromatic  plants, — ^I  have  gathered  my  myrrh  with  my 
spice';  the  Rose  of  Sharon  is  no  longer  in  its  early  bloom,  but 
plucked  and  crushed,  distilling  and  diiFusing  abundantly  all 
its  odours.  It  is  not  more  to  be  remarked  in  the  Sons  than 
in  the  Gospels,  how  frequent  is  the  mention  of  ointments  in 
connexion  with  the  death  of  the  Lord's  Anointed. 


Canticle  TV. — Chap.  v.  2-Chap.  viii.  5. 

From  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  till  the  Evangelizing  of  the  Samaritans. 

The  future  progress  of  the  Song,  sketched  in  the  preceding 
summary,  tallies  as  perfectly  as  the  past  with  the  history  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  his  Church.  The  words  of  Christ  spoken  by 
him  while  on  earth  to  his  Church  are  ours  for  ever,  and  the 
tenderest  of  them  are  the  expression  of  his  present  mind  and 
heart  toward  his  people.  But  taken  historically,  Christ  after 
his  resurrection  never  permitted  the  same  familiarity  and  near- 


an  "file  tbct  ic  life  disoiue?  a?  l»gfcire.  and  nccer  sddiesaed 
•<^w>w  in  moK  file  same  xerm?  of  sS?naan,  'miale  roflse  tlacn 
•cverl^aaEacedfiisE:  riw>dir  _  -  Tajirtsr 

anfl  fiiar  Tjoier,     —  -  ^iscm.    ..  i?  not 

xTTT^'yf  fw  rmrr  s  -grnr-V  ^-  -  ::ei25"wnri35  cmfianii,  *IllSTe 

fteec.  £2:?5TC  -^  '  -._-_,  iiever  ?:-— -  :    me 

CSnrrei:  Imr  it  T-.r  i  -  .__  m^ses^srs — -ibr  li:'  Siepben. 
IT  "viiniii  i»  mimiKss  iiira=«eif  jr  :--';  ~i-  i i  TnnVff?  u-i'  msersnce. 
^pir  ii  K.  an  "rhe  cniisr  iaad.  Tnr.-  :Lr.r  '^JiiircL.  loT^e.'j"  Ijiefiire. 

1x1— Tt>V  2=  an  amrr  irr-r  aaEne^ ';  and  npv,  sfetv.  nus*  and 
-mr-  -  ite  cisE~s  TD  isT  IxErd.  dssTsnT  10  ^  '  3Er  ^  a  ae«l 

in*::   ^      .   _n.*  incrior  inr  r/s^  sroesrrcr  "  3r.  xbe  miNiBiai^ 


Tth^  -p'ggr  i^  T3T  zii£  pr^s  - — iitt  isssi  HOE 

a  inmi  of  inar~    r  -^:  ____     --^    _r:iJL  oii  is  n?v2r 

AT  i^  rssnm^  ^  '-—  '^i  rres:  njsrria^'f-^iriiier  of 

fie  TjrTw>>  ^viisn  iK  "vill  fT-mk  "die  :^-cii  of  lie  xine  hfw 
-^o::'  -    >semed.     Si>inssE^  lie  ^^^^  ias  irillDwers  iiz>  Irmgsr. 

Iht  Jie  *^TIc  ThPTT  g-^^..  asid  ae^roEpsiiied  wzni  uke^ 

To-m^  of  nHMfiiw  -flm  airrvie?E  eis  in  "die  -fiiiDle  ^n>g:  for 
-nna^o"  -frnm  -^f  '   iJ=  "VTBlUrLUfc  icnii  Xl—  X  zbe 

"h-BPT  of  m  Snui- —i^  Man  of  sorrcnrs  «;:•  q—  zad 

:7^L  on  fiif  i>o~am  of  fiiose  "vic  v.t:rir  fie=h  of  iiK  "fVpsVi  and 
^ime  of  is  "dqiis — '  escauA.  ys  nro  'wsesl  wifii  me  one  iionr  2.. 
soFE  iiemTnsnan  T^a=  exaeed  ar  once  "msir  e;y*iii5£  in  slsep- 
lAefearoffiisar  iKarsinsr  I  .  I'  s  of  lihe  \.^  isa£ur£ 
EL  jiZi^rnr«"  Tc-  mn  ^auidl'^  r^^sr  er^ins..  eombraiiir  Ixnii 
arad  awersC  "Dards  im?:'  on?:,  ior  all  are  fiie 
ams  It-Wlp-  aad  ibgg&gp  'wt  "aie  tit  i^rr  sbsik  ii»  tie  in  fiie 
>ngT— yrTggrV  mT'  4 ..  and  -dit  nex:  p.gatr  ar  fiie  sejjnlciire.  to 
-f^B^  fi^r  al  renured  ^daSe  it  V2t  ye:  dar^  Twh^  t?:»  sesi 


CHRIST   RISEX.  59 

as^  extending  through  the  whole  of  the  dark  night,  whicli  be- 
gan in  Gethsemane  and  ended  only  on  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection  (7);  so  also  the  sympathies  of  secret  friends  (8). 
Never  Avould  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  Jesus  appear  so  attrac- 
tive, as  it  did  to  the  eyes  of  his  "weeping  followers  in  that  dark 
hour,  and  never  is  it  so  gloriously  joortraycd  (10-lG).  The 
same  night  of  sorrow  brings  out  for  the  first  time  Joseph  of 
Arimathea  and  Nicodemus,  and  probably  other  less  noted 
secret  disciples,  into  open  acknowledgment  of  Jesus — daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem  before,  weeping  companions  of  the  Bride  now 
(vi.  1).  The  heart  of  the  disciples  reverts  often  both  to  the 
earthly  garden  that  contained  the  body  of  Jesus,  and  to  the 
paradise  or  heavenly  garden  that  had  received  his  soul  (2). 
Repairing  to  the  garden  of  the  sepulchre  they  find  him  not, 
but  seeing  the  linen  clothes  orderly  arranged,  arc  assured  of 
his  resurrection;  of  his  interest  in  them,  and  theirs  in  him; 
and  are  informed  by  the  angels  that  he  is  gone  into  Galilee  to 
meet  his  disciples, — or,  in  allegoric  speech,  to  feed  among  the 
lilies;  for  'lilies  among  thorns'  he  has  called  them  from  the 
first  (3). 

PART  II.  CHAP.  VI.  4-10. — CHRIST'S  RESURRECTION. 

Christ  suddenly  reveals  himself  to  the  sorrowing  disciples, 
and  acknowledges  them  as  clothed  with  greater  glory  than  be- 
fore (4)  ;  yet  will  not  suffer  them  to  gaze  too  intently  on  him, 
but  vanishes  from  their  sight  while  they  look  most  earnestly 
(5).  He  brings  to  their  remembrance  the  things  that  he  had 
said  unto  them,  both  to  assure  them  of  unaba^ted  love,  and  to 
enable  them  the  more  to  recognise  himself  by  his  words  (5-7). 
This  we  know  he  did,  saying  before  he  died,  '  Peace  I  leave 
Avith  you,'  and  '  as  thou  hast  sent  me,  so  have  I  also  sent  them;' 
and  when  he  rose  again,  'Peace  be  unto  you,  as  my  Father 
hath  sent  me,  even  so  send  I  you,'  with  other  words  in  like 
manner  repeated.  Then  follows  his  description  of  the  Church 
as  his  only  beloved  (9),  as  everywhere  in  the  Word ;  and  her 
mother's  only  child,  for  she  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  new 
covenant  and  the  new  Jerusalem.    In  marked  contrast  with  her 


60  HISTORICAL   ILLUSTRATION. 

unity  in  herself  and  toward  Him,  and  with  her  simplicity  and 
weakness,  are  set  forth  the  multitude  and  the  pomp  of  the 
great  ones  of  the  earth  (8). 

In  such  an  allegory  it  is  impossible  to  represent  the  powers 
of  earth,  civil  or  ecclesiastical,  Roman  or  Jewish,  otherwise  than 
by  queens  and  great  and  honoi'able  women,  because  the  Church 
herself  is  represented  as  a  woman  comely  and  delicate.  Christ 
is  a  King,  and  therefore  in  a  parallel  description  of  him  it  is 
said,  'The  kings  shall  shut  their  mouths  at  him'  (Is.  Hi.  15). 
But  here  it  is  impossible,  w^ithout  destroying  the  whole  alle- 
gory, to  descril^e  the  adverse  powers  as  kings,  because  the 
Church,  consisting  in  great  part  of  men,  is  represented  as  a 
woman,  and  her  followers,  being  men,  are  figured  as  females. 
Simeon,  the  shepherds  and  the  Eastern  sages,  Peter,  James, 
and  John,  are  the  Bride, — Joseph  of  Arimathea  and  Nicodemus 
are  among  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem;  and  of  necessity  xinnas 
and  Caiaphas,  John  and  Alexander,  Felix,  Festus,  and  Agrippa, 
as  well  as  Drusilla  and  Bern  ice,  are  queens,  and  concubines, 
and  daughters.  The  risen  Saviour  assures  his  one  and  simple 
Bride,  how  the  glittering  and  haughty  company  of  the  earth's 
mighty  ones  would  be  filled  with  wonder  and  awe,  when  she 
is  endowed  with  power  from  on  high  •  and  conveys  in  alle- 
goric terms  the  promise  of  her  being  clothed  wdth  divine  light 
and  majesty  and  power  (10). 

ART  III.  CHAP.  VI.  11-VII.  10.— THE  DESCENT  OF  THE  HOLY  GHOST. 

The  disciples  descending  from  mount  Olivet  to  Jerusalem, 
'go  down'  to  the  garden,  in  which  there  is  no  more  mention  of 
spices  ;  for  as  in  the  Gospel  history,  so  In  the  Song,  these  cen- 
ter round  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  last  reference  to 
them  is  in  his  going  down  to  the  beds  of  spices  (vi.  2) ;  after 
which,  just  as  in  the  second  Canticle  where  Christ  Is  not  present," 
they  are  never  Introduced  till  the  last  verse  of  the  Book,  in 
reference  to  Christ's  return  like  a  roe  on  the  mountains  of 
spices.  This  third  garden  Is  distinguished  by  the  expectation 
of  the  first  buds  of  spring;  which  agrees  exactly  with  their 


THE   PENTECOSTAL   CHT7RCH.  61 

waiting  and  watching,  after  the  dark  cold  winter  of  sorrow 
through  which  they  had  passed,  for  the  outburst  of  Gospel 
spring  in  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  quickening  Spirit, 
the  south  wind  breathing  on  the  garden.  Along  with  this 
there  is  the  interesting  peculiarity  of  the  nuts,  which  the  early 
interpreters  understand  of  a  hard  shell  to  be  opened,  with  a 
sweet  kernel  witliin  (Origen).  Never  in  the  whole  history  of 
the  Church  of  Christ  was  she  so  introduced  into  a  garden  of 
nuts  as  in  that  upper  room,  with  one  dispensation  closed, 
another  not  yet  commenced,  and  Je^us  by  the  Spirit  opening 
to  them  the  Scriptures,  beginning  at  Moses  and  all  the  pro- 
phets, and  expounding  to  them  the  things  concerning  himself 
(Luke  xxiv.  27,  32). 

Suddenly  through  this  garden  blows  the  rusliing  mighty 
wind  from  heaven  (12);  then  the  devout  Jews  crowd  around 
the  infant  Church  which  (not  accidentally  either  in  the  fact  or 
in  the  record)  held  its  daily  meetings  in  Solomon's  porch,  and 
from  this  in  connexion  with  the  Kingdom  of  Peace  might  well 
be  termed  the  Solomouite  (13);  and  the  apostles  are  willing 
that  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  upon  them  should  be  admired, 
but  not  attributed  to  themselves  (13). 

The  Pentecostal  Church  is  now  described  publishing  peace, 
knit  together  in  love  (vii.  1),  holding  forth  the  cup  of  the  new 
wine  of  the  kingdom  (2),  and  having  in  the  midst  of  it  vast 
stores  of  the  bread  of  life,  not  jealously  fenced  with  thorns  but 
attractively  'railed  about  with  lilies'  (Old  Trans.),  or  harmless 
followers  of  the  Lamb  (2).  The  glory  of  all  is  that  Christ, 
though  absent  in  body,  is  manifestly  present  in  Spirit  (5).  The 
inquirers  love  as  well  as  admire  the  Church  (6);  come  and 
grasp  for  themselves  the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises 
she  holds  forth  (8) ;  finally  profess  their  own  love  and  union 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Beloved  of  their  own  souls 
(9) ;  and  among  them  that  are  saved  are  'added  to  the  Church' 
(10). 

PABT  IV.  CHAP.  VII.  ]  l.-VIII.  4.— COKVERSIOK  OF  THE  SAMARITANS. 

From  the  earliest  times  the  going  forth  into  the  fields  has 


62  IIISTOllICAL   ILLUSTRATION. 

been  interpreted  of  seeking  out,  and  gathering  in  lost  and  ne- 
glected souls  (Tlieodoret).  The  disciples  have  hitherto  been 
in  Jerusalem,  but  after  the  death  of  Stephen  they  are  scattered 
abroad  everywhere  preaching  the  Word,  and  more  especially 
,the  gospel  is  now  extended  to  Samaria  and  its  villages.  The 
soundness  of  this  interpretation  is  not  affected  by  the  absence 
of  any  reference  to  the  persecution  that  occasioned  this  village 
preaching ;  because  it  brought  no  darkness  to  the  church  as  at 
the  time  of  Christ's  death,  but  they  took  the  tribulation  joy- 
fully; and  they  went  forth  not  only  for  the  progress  of  the 
Kingdom,  but  also  'there  to  give  Christ  their  loves,'  implying 
some  interruption  to  their  fellowship  with  him  at  home.  The 
persecution  itself  when  overpast  is  fully  brought  out  in  the 
next  song,  in  the  connexion  most  interesting  to  the  Church; 
when  the  Bride  refers  to  the  many  waters  that  had  gone  over 
her,  but  only  to  bring  out  the  glorious  fact  that  they  had  not 
quenched  love  (viii.  7).  It  is  obvious  how,  in  such  a  mission- 
ary tour  through  the  wide  outfield  vineyards,  there  should  at 
once  be  found  buds,  tender  grapes,  and  ripe  fruit;  as  well  as 
old  fruits  sought  out  from  the  season  of  Christ's  own  visit  to 
the  well  of  Sychar,  and  now  presented  to  the  Beloved  along 
with  the  new  (vii.  13). 

The  progress  of  the  history  renders  also  clear  what  is  other-' 
wise  obscure,  in  the  prayer  for  the  King  becoming  as  a  brother 
to  the  Bride,  when  he  had  been  a  brother  already.  The  whole 
resurrection  history  of  Christ  proves  that  the  previous  amount 
of  intimacy  in  the  disciples  was  never  allowed,  while  it  inti- 
mates that  it  might  be  resumed  at  a  future  day.  'Touch  me 
not  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended'  might  mean  that  before  the 
ascension  there  would  be  sufiicient  opportunity;  but  the  sub- 
sequent narrative  discountenances  such  an  idea,  and  shuts  us 
up  to  the  conclusion  that  a  greater  nearness  will  be  permitted 
in  the  final  state,  than  during  Christ's  resurrection  stay  on 
earth.  It  is  said,  indeed,  in  one  of  the  Gospels  that  'they  held 
him  by  the  feet  and  worshipped  him ;'  and  this  j^i'obably  im- 
plies that  Mary  approached  with  the  design  of  kissing  the 
Saviour's  feet  as  had  been  done  before,  which  Jesus  in  this 


CALLING   OF   THE   GENTILES.  63 

intermediate  state  forbade.  The  last  kiss  that  Christ  has  ever 
received  on  earth  till  this  day  is  the  kiss  of  Judas  the  traitor — 
the  last  of  our  family  on  earth  that  ever  kissed  the  Son  of  man. 
In  the  resurrection,  however,  when  'we  shall  see  his  face'  and 
'in  our  flesh  shall  see  God/  he  will  fully  be  unto  us  a  Brother 
and  the  Son  of  our  mother.  We  are  far  from  meaning,  either 
that  any  oue  of  his  words  of  love  while  on  earth  is  taken  away 
meanwhile,  or  that  by  the  Holy  Ghost  we  do  not  now  attain  great 
boldness  of  access,  and  nearness  as  of  brethren.  Such  spiritual 
liberty  was,  no  doubt,  a  chief  part  of  the  Church's  desire  in 
this  prayer,  as  in  the  apostolic  supplication  for  holy  boldness 
and  power  (viii.  1 ;  Acts  iv.);  and  however  the  actual  sight  of 
Christ  was  longed  for,  the  spiritual  presence  was  all  that  was 
granted  to  the  Bride  (2,  3).  Then  for  the  last  time  in  this 
book  she  charges  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  not  to  disturb 
the  holy  rest  (4),  and  for  the  last  time  in  Bible  history  there 
was  a  season  of  general  outward  and  inward  repose  and  re- 
freshing— recorded  in  the  memorable  words,  'Then  had  the 
churches  rest  throughout  all  Judea  and  Galilee  and  Samaria, 
and  were  edified,  walking  in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost' 
(Acts  ix.  31). 

Canticle  V. — Chap.  viii.  5-14. 

Time. — From  ths  Calling  of  the  Gentiles  till  the  Close  of  Revelation. 

The  espousal  of  the  little  Sister  is  universally  acknowledged 
to  refer  to  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles;  with  that  calling  Paul 
the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  is  about  as  closely  associated,  as 
John  the  Baptist  with  the  ^preparation  for  Christ's  coming; 
and  he  is  also  expressly  given  as  an  example  of  long-suffering 
grace,  and  a  pattern  to  them  tliat  should  afterward  believe. 
The  first  preaching  to  the  Gentiles  by  Peter  took  place  after 
the  last  general  rest  in  the  churches  referred  to  at  the  close  of 
the  preceding  Canticle;  and  after  some  further  lapse  of  time 
the  whole  subject,  which  is  great  and  outstanding  in  the  history 
of  the  Gospel,  was  brought  before  the  Church  at  Jerusalem  by 


64  IIISTOrvICAL   ILLUSTEATIOX. 

Paul  coming  up  expressly  on  that  account  (Acts  xv).  The 
conversion  of  Paul  was  previous,  and  in  this  Canticle  is  re- 
ferred to  not  as  present  but  past  (5).  The  appearance  of  Christ 
to  Paul  ffoinsc  to  Damascus  is  the  last  direct  interview  which 
the  Bride  on  earth  has  ever  had  with  the  Bridegroom — 'last 
of  all  seen  of  him  also/  The  other  revelations  either  to  him- 
self or  the  other  apostles  are  by  angels  or  by  visions,  and  never 
by  a  direct  a])pearance,  which  is  therefore  worthy  of  special 
notice  in  this  Song  (5).  But  its  character  is  more  marked  by 
majesty  and  distance  than  the  resurrection  interviews,  as  these 
again  more  than  the  earlier  intercourse,  the  gradation  being 
preserved  as  exactly  in  the  prophetic  song  as  in  the  historic 
narrative.  The  next  petition  to  be  ^set  as  a  seal  on  the  heart' 
implies  absence  and  distance,  for  in  continued  presence,  as  in 
the  third  chapter,  there  could  be  no  room  for  desiring  to  be 
thus  kept  in  remembrance  (6).  Then  the  late  persecutions  are 
recorded  as  having  failed,  as  will  all  the  future,  to  quench  the 
church's  love  to  the  Lord  Jesus  (7).  Next  comes  the  solemn 
discussion  at  Jerusalem  of  the  Gentile  question  (8),  the  very 
terms  of  'wall  and  door'  being  employed  regarding  it  either 
then  or  previously  (9);  and  the  Gentiles,  who  had  been  in 
great  fear  of  an  iron  yoke  to  be  imposed  on  their  necks  (Acts 
XV.  10),  rejoice  greatly  in  the  apostolic  decree  (31),  by  which 
the  Gentile  Church  is  fully  admitted  to  equality  witli  the 
Jewish  as  the  Bride  of  Christ  (11).  There  is  then  narrated 
the  transference  of  the  charge  of  tlie  vineyard  from  the  Jews, 
who  rendered  not  its  fruits,  to  the  Gentile  Church,  which  un- 
dertakes to  yield  its  full  revenue  to  tlie  Lord,  along  with 
suitable  provision  for  the  vine-dressers  (12).  Christ  then 
accosts  the  Church,  yet  no  longer  visibly  as  before,  but  merely 
with  his  voice,  desiring  her  voice  in  return  (13).  The  Song 
concludes,  not  with  a  season  of  rest  as  in  all  the  previous 
Canticles,  but  with  an  earnest  cry  for  the  Lord's  own  appear- 
ing— exactly  as  in  the  close  of  Revelation,  which  is  the  his- 
torical point  we  have  now  reached;  the  whole  book  commencing 
with  prayer  for  the  first  advent,  and  concluding  with  a  cor- 
responding prayer  for  the  second  (14). 


AUTHORITY   FOR  THIS   ILLUSTRATION.  65 

Let  us  now  briefly  remind  our  readers  of  the  autbority  by 
which  the  preceding  historical  illustration  is  supported.  The- 
odorct,  one  of  the  best  interpreters  of  the  Song  among  the 
Greek  fathers,  warns  his  readers  that  if  they  find  some  of  his 
explanations  in  previous  commentators,  they  are  not  to  regard 
it  as  4heft,'  but  as  ^paternal  inheritance';  nor  is  the  intima- 
tion superfluous,  for  not  a  little  of  what  is  most  valuable  in 
his  commentary  is  found  further  up  the  stream,  and  nearly 
two  centuries  earlier.  It  is  obvious  that  in  the  midst  of  much 
exposition  of  a  desultory  and  fanciful  kind  in  long  treatises, 
certain  remarkable  expressions  in  such  a  book  as  the  Song  of 
Solomon  might  have  a  current  interpretation  in  the  Church, 
and  be  easily  transferred  from  one  writer  to  another.  Where 
we  cannot  arrive  at  certainty,  received  opinion  is  not  to  be 
slighted,  esjjecially  when  derived  from  an  early  source ;  and 
some  of  the  interpretations  on  which  we  have  founded  can  be 
traced  to  within  little  more  than  a  hundred  years  from  the 
last  of  the  Apostles. 

In  the  First  Canticle  we  have  at  its  commencement  'Let 
him  kiss  me,'  universally  interpreted  of  prayer  for  the  first 
advent  of  Christ;  and  at  its  close  the  Rose  of  Sharon  by  the 
earliest  authors,  and  the  Apple-tree  by  all,  interpreted  of  Christ 
come.  In  the  Second,  we  have  'Winter  past'  generally  or 
universally  applied  to  the  passing  away  of  the  legal  dispensa- 
tion, and  the  'Voice  of  the  turtle'  interpreted  by  eminent 
Hebrews  of  Elias,  and  by  early  Christian  fathers  of  John  the 
Baptist;  and  if  the  modern  critics  are  right  in  their  divisions, 
we  have  thus  received  opinion  for  interpreting  this  whole 
second  Song  of  the  Baptist's  ministry.  In  the  Third,  we 
have  in  the  closing  verse  'Eat  O  friends'  interpreted  by  almost 
all  our  early  English  Bibles  of  the  Last  Supper,  and  the  in- 
terpretation responded  to  by  general  consent ;  and  if  the  book 
has  been  correctly  divided,  there  is  thus  a  great  concurrence 
for  applying  this  central  Song  to  Christ's  ministry  on  earth. 
In  the  Fourth,  our  received  waymarks  are  less  distinct,  but 
we  have  Wyclifie's  Bible  interpreting  the  '  Prince's  daughter ' 
of  the  Pentecostal  Church,  and  we  have  early  authority  among 


66  HISTORICAL    ILLUSTEATIOK. 

the  Greek  fathers  for  applying  'Let  us  go  forth  into' the  fields' 
to  aggressive  Christian  labors  for  lost  and  outcast  souls.  But 
for  this  fourth  Song  there  Ls  less  need  of  guiding  tokens  ^yithin 
itself;  for  if  the  third  closes  with  the  Last  Supper,  and  the 
fifth  has  for  its  subject  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles,  the  fourth 
must  occupy  the  intervening  period.  In  the  fifth  and  final 
Song  we  have  the  'Little  Sister'  interpreted  by  general  consent 
of  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles. 


THE  SOXG  COMPARED  ETC  67 


VII. 

THE  SOXG  CO:\IPARED  WITH  TEXTS,  CHIEFLY  FEOM  THE 
GOSPELS  AND  ACTS,  IN  PARALLEL  PAGES. 

To  iinderstaud  a  parable  and  the  intcrpretatlou,  the  Avords 
of  the  wise  and  their  darke  sayings. — Prov.  i.  6.  (Old  Bible.) 

In  the  following  transcription  of  the  Song  it  is  no  part  of 
our  design  to  present  a  new  translation,  but  as  the  book  is 
acknowledged  by  all  to  be  metrical,  we  have  written  it  in  its 

natural  lines  accordino-  to  the  method  of  most  translators  for 

o 

the  last  seventy  years,  and  have  partially  altered  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  words,  but  never  except  to  preserve  the  exact 
order  of  the  Hebrew.  We  have  also  occasionally,  but  rarely, 
inserted  words  within  brackets,  not  as  any  part  of  the  transla- 
tion, but  as  the  briefest  method  of  indicating  what  we  take  to 
be  the  sense  or  the  connexion. 

The  few  slio-ht  deviations  we  have  made  from  the  authorized 
version  are  all  marked  by  Italics ;  and  the  reasons  for  these 
will  be  found  in  the  Notes  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  as  well 
as  for  the  words  assigned  to  the  respective  speakers  where 
there  is  any  obscurity.  Some  of  the  Italic  words  of  the  com- 
mon translation  are  also  omitted,  especially  when  not  found 
in  the  older  English  Bibles. 

In  the  annexed  historic  illustration,  for  want  of  space  in  the 
parallel  lines,  many  words  in  the  texts  quoted  have  necessarily 
been  omitted,  and  the  words  of  two  verses  in  the  same  chapter, 
and  of  the  narratives  in  two  or  more  Gospels,  have  sometimes 
been  combined.  For  the  same  reason  the  chapters  only  have 
been  marked  without  the  verses,  and  even  for  these  there  has 
sometimes  not  been  room. 

Some  texts,  not  historical,  but  figurative  or  typical,  have 
been  introduced  to  throw  light  on  the  allegory. 


C<S  THE  SONG   CO]MPARED 


Canticle  I. — Chap.  i.  2-Chap.  ii.  7. 

Subject. — Tlie  Bride  SeeMng  and  Imding  the  King. 

pakt  i.  chap.  i.  2-8. — the  search  for  the  king. 

The  Bride. 

2  Let  Him  kiss  ine  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth, 
For  better  is  thy  love  than  wine. 

3  Because  of  the  savour  of  thy  good  ointments, 
(Ointment  poured  forth  is  thy  Name) 
Therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee. 

4  Draw  me,  after  thee  will  we  run  ; 

The  King  hath  brought  me  [in  times  past]  into  his  chambers, 
We  will  [yet]  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  thee. 
We  will  remember  thy  love  more  than  wine ; 
The  upright  love  thee. 

5  Black  am  I,  but  comely,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
As  the  tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon, 

6  Look  not  upon  me,  because  I  am  black, 
Because  the  sun  hath  looked  upon  me. 

My  mother's  children  were  angry  with  me, 
They  made  me  keeper  of  the  vineyards : 
Mine  own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept. 

7  Tell  me,  0  Thou  whom  my  soul  loveth, 
Where  thou  feedest  thy  flock. 
Where  thou  makest  it  to  rest  at  noon  ; 

For  why  should  I  be  as  one  that  turneth  aside, 
By  the  flocks  of  thy  companions? 

The  King  {by  his  messengers). 

8  If  thou  know  not,  O  thou  fairest  among  women. 
Go  thy  way  forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock. 
And  feed  thy  kids  beside  the  shepherds'  tents. 

part  ii.  chap.  I.  9-II.  7.— the  king  found. 
The  King  {i7i  person), 

9  I  have  compared  thee,  O  my  love, 

To  a  company  of  iiorses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots. 


WITH  THE  GOSPELS   AXD   ACTS.  69 

Canticle  I. — Chap.  i.  2-Chap.  ii.  7. 

Time. — Immediatehj  before  and  after  the  Birth  of  Christ. 

PART  I.  CHAP.  I.  2-8. — THE  CRY  FOR  THE  ADVENT. 

SiMEOX,  Zacharias,  Wise  Men,  Anna,  etc. 

2  Hope  of  Israel,  why  shouldest  tliou  be  a  stranger  in  the  land?  Jer.  xiv. 
Gladness  in  my  heart,  more  than  when  their  wine  increased.     Ps.  iv. 

3  It  was  revealed  by  the  Holy  Ghost  that  he  should  not  see  death, 
Before  he  had  seen  the  Lord's  Christ  (or  Anointed).     Luke  ii. 
Anna,  spake  to  all  them  that  looked  for  redemption.     Luke  ii. 

4  She  departed  not  from  the  temple  night  and  day.     Luke  ii. 

The  glory  filled  the  house.    So  as  I  have  seen  thee.    2  Chr.;  Ps.  Ixiii. 
Thou  hast  been  my  help,  under  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice.     Ps.  Ixiii. 
When  I  remember  thee  upon  my  bed.     Ps.  Jxiii. 
Just  and  devout,  waiting  for  the  consolation  of  Israel.     Luke  ii. 

5  Wise  men  came  from  the  East  to  Jerusalem.     Ethiopia  shall  stretch 

her  hands  to  God.    The  best  robe  on  him.    Matt. ;  Ps. ;  Luke.  xv. 

6  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin?    Jer.  xiii. 

The  younger  son  took  his  journey  into  a  far  country.     Luke  xv. 
And  he  joined  himself  to  a  citizen  of  that  country,  and  he  sent  him 

into  his  fields  to  feed  swine.     Luke  xv. 
He  wasted  his  substance  with  riotous  living.     Luke  xv. 

7  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews  ?  for  we  have  seen  his  star 

in  the  East,  and  are  come  to  worship  him.  When  they  heard  the 
king  they  departed;  and  lo,  the  star  which  they  saw  in  the  East 
went  before  them,  till  it  came  and  stood  over  where  the  young  Child 
was.    Matt.  ii. 

Christ  by  the  Prophets. 

8  Eemember  the  law— before  the  day  of  the  Lord.    They  were  walking 

in  all  the  ordinances  blameless.     Mai.  iv. ;  Luke  i. 
He  shall  turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  children.    Mai.  iv. 

part  II.  chap.  I.  9-II.  7.— CHRIST  BORN  IN  BETHLEHEM. 

The  Holy  Child  Jesus. 

9  We  have  seen  his  star  and  have  come.    The  shepherds  came  with 

haste.     Anna  seiTed  with  fastings  and  prayers.    Matt,  ii.;  Luke  ii. 


\ 


70  THE   SONG   COMPARED 

10  Comely  are  thy  cheeks  with  rows  of  jewels, 
Thy  neck  with  chains  of  gold. 

11  Borders  of  gold  will  we  make  thee, 
With  studs  of  silver. 

The  Bride. 

12  While  the  King  sitteth  at  his  table, 

My  spikenard  sendeth  forth  the  smell  thereof. 

13  A  bundle  of  myrrh  is  my  Beloved  unto  me ; 

Between  my  breasts  shall  it  always  lodge,     (Portug.  Bib.) 

14  A  cluster  of  camphire  is  my  Beloved  unto  me, 
In  the  vineyards  of  En-gedi. 

The  Kixg. 

15  Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love ; 

Behold  thou  art  fair ;  thou  hast  doves'  eyes. 

The  Bride. 

16  Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved ; 
Yea  pleasant,  also  our  couch  is  green: 

17  The  beams  of  our  house  are  cedar. 
And  our  rafters  of  fir. 

The  King. 

II.  I  am  the  Kose  [or  Kosebud]  of  Sharon, 
The  Lily  of  the  Valleys. 

2  As  the  lily  among  thorns. 

So  is  my  Love  among  the  daughters. 

The  Bride. 

3  As  the  apple-tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood, 
So  is  my  Beloved  among  the  sons. 

Under  his  shadow  I  sat  down  with  great  delight, 
And  his  fruit  was  sweet  to  my  taste. 

4  He  brought  me  to  the  banqueting  house, 
And  his  banner  over  me  was  love. 

5  Stay  me  with  flagons, 
Comfort  me  with  [citron-]  apples. 
For  I  am  sick  of  love. 

6  His  left  hand  is  under  my  head. 
And  his  right  hand  doth  embrace  me. 

7  I  charge  you,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
By  the  roes,  and  by  the  hinds  of  the  field, 
That  ye  stir  not  up,  or  awake 

My  Love  till  he  please. 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AND   ACTS.  71 

10  Tlicy  presented  gold.    Had  gold  ear-rings  because  Ishmaelites.   I  put 

a  chain  on  thy  neck.    Matt.  ii. ;  Judges  viii. ;  Ezek.  xvi. 

11  We  will  come  unto  him.    Buy  of  me  gold.    I  put  a  crown  on  thy 

head.    Let  no  man  take  thy  crown.    John  xiv. ;  Ez.  xvi. ;  Eev.  iii. 

j  Sages,  Simeon,  etc. 

12  When  they  were  come  into  the  house,  they  saw  the  young  Child,  and 

presented  unto  him  frankincense  and  myrrh.    Matt.  ii. 

13  All  thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh.    Simeon  took  him  up  in  his  arms 

and  blessed  God,    Ps.  xlv. ;  Luke  ii. 

14  He  dwelt  in  the  bush.    The  new  wine  in  the  cluster— destroy  it  not 

[with  the  babes]  for  a  blessing  is  in  it.     Dent. ;  Isa.  Ixv. 

The  Holy  Child  Jesus. 

15  The  King  shall  desire  thy  beauty.     They  brought  him  to  Jerusalem 

to  offer  a  sacrifice  of  two  young  pigeons.     Luke  ii. 

Joseph,  Mary,  Simeok,  Anna. 

16  That  Holy  Thing— the  Son  of  God— fairer  than  sons  of  men.     They 

laid  him  in  a  manger— he  maketh  grass  for  the  cattle. 
He  came  into  the  temple  when  the  parents  brought  in  the  Child  Je- 
sus.    Anna  coming  in  that  instant  gave  thanks.     Luke  ii. 

The  Child  Jesus  {in  Spirit). 

n.  The  desert  bloBsom  as  the  rose— the  excellency  of  Sharon. 

I  am  meek  and  lowly— found  in  fashion  as  a  man.     Matt. ;  Philip. 

2  Consider  the  lilies— if  God  so  clothe  grass,  shall  he  not  clothe  you? 
I  send  you  as  sheep  in  the  midst  of  wolves.     Matt.  x.  16. 

Sages,  Shepherds,  Mary,  Simeon. 

3  If  these  things  in  a  green  tree,  what  in  the  dry?    Luke  xxiii. 
Thy  God  hath  anointed  thee  above  thy  fellows.     Ps.  xlv. 

They  rejoiced  with  great  joy  and  worshipped  the  Child.     Matt.  ii. 
The  shepherds  praised.     My  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  my  Saviour.   Lu. 

4  He  hath  filled  the  hungry  with  good  things.    The  glory  of  the  Lord 

shone  about  them ;  the  angel  said,  Fear  not.     Luke  ii. 

5  They  shall  drink  and  make  a  noise  as  through  wine,  and  be  filled  like 

bowls,  and  as  the  corners  of  the  altar.    Zcch.  ix.  15. 
For  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.     Luke  ii. 

6  Then  took  he  him  up  in  his  arms  and  blessed  God,  and  said,  Lord 

now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace.     Luke  ii. 

7  I  bring  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  for  unto  you  is  born  this  day  a  Sa- 

viour, Christ  the  Lord.  And  there  was  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly 
host  saying.  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good- 
will toward  men.    Luke  ii. 


72  THE  SONG  COMPARED 

Canticle  II. — Chap.  ii.  8— Chap.  iii.  5. 

Subject. — The  Sleeping  Bride  aivalened. 

PAET  I.  CHAP.  II.  8-15. — CALL  TO  MEET  THE  BRIDEGROOM. 

The  Bride  [narrating  the  Bridegroom's  words). 

8  The  voice  of  my  beloved ! 

Behold  He  cometh !  [6  tpxa^svog,  the  coming  One] 
Leaping  upon  the  mountains : 
Skipping  upon  the  hills, 

9  My  Beloved  is  like  a  roe,  or  a  young  hart. 
Behold  he  standeth  behind  our  wall, 

He  looketh  in  at  the  windows, 
Showing  himself  through  the  lattice. 

10  My  Beloved  spake  and  said  unto  me, 

'  Rise  up  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away 

11  '  For  lo  the  winter  is  past, 

'  The  rain  is  over  and  gone ; 

12  'The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth  ; 

'The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come, 

'  [The  tyme  of  cutting  is  come. — Old  Bible]. 

'  And  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land. 

13  '  The  fig-tree  putteth  forth  her  green  figs, 

'  And  the  vines  with  the  tender  grapes  give  a  good  smell. 
'  Arise,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away. 

14  '  O  my  dove,  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock, 
'  In  the  secret  jilaces  of  the  stairs  [or  crags] ; 

'  Let  me  see  thy  countenance, 

'  Let  me  hear  thy  voice; 

'  For  sweet  is  thy  voice, 

'  And  thy  countenance  is  comely. 

15  '  Take  for  us  the  foxes, 

'The  little  foxes,  that  spoil  the  vines; 
*  For  our  vines  have  tender  grapes.' 

part  ii.  chap.  ii.  16-iii.  5. — response  to  the  call. 

The  Bride. 

16  My  Beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his: 
He  feedeth  among  the  lilies, 

17  Until  the  day  break  [or  while  the  day  breaks], 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AXD   ACTS,  73 

Caxticle  II. — Chap.  ii.  8-Chap.  iii.  5. 
Time. — Froyyi  the  appearance  of  John  iill  the  Baptism  of  Jesus. 

PAET  I.  CHAP.  II.  8-15. — PREACHIXG  OF  JOHK  THE  BAPTIST. 

Hebrew  Church  {hearing  Christ's  voice  through  John). 

8  The  friend  rejoiceth  because  of  the  Bridegroom's  voice.    John  iii. 
Behold  there  cometh  One  af^^^er  me.     John  i.;  Acts  xiii.,  xix. 
Every  valley  shall  be  filled,  and  every  mountain 

And  hill  shall  be  brought  low.     Luke  iii. 

9  The  Hind  of  the  morning — feet  like  hinds'.  Ps.  xviii.  xxii.  (marg.) 
There  standeth  One  among  you  whom  ye  know  not.     He  shall  not 

fail — [till  he  shall  have]  broken  down  the  middle  wall  of  partition. 
John  i.;  Is.  xlii.;  Eph.  ii. 

10  The  friend  of  the  Bridegroom  standeth  and  heareth  him. 
Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come.    John  iii.;  Is.  Ix. 

11  The  people  which  sat  in  darkness  saw  great  light.     Matt.  iv. 
A  man  shall  be  a  covert  from  the  tempest.     Is.  xxxii. 

12  The  law  until  John,  since  that  time  the  kingdom  of  God.     Luke. 
Sing  ye  that  dwell  in  dust.    The  kingdom  is  at  hand.    Is. ;  Matt. 
[Now  also  the  axe  is  laid  unto  the  root  of  the  trees.     Matt,  iii.] 
The  turtle  knoweth  her  time — olive-leaf  in  dove's  mouth. 

13  When  the  fig-tree  putteth  forth  leaves,  summer  is  nigh.     Luke. 
I  found  Israel  like  grapes  in  the  wilderness.     Hos.  ix. 

Shake  thyself  from  dust — put  on  thy  beautiful  garments.     Is.  Hi. 

14  Say  to  the  prisoners,  Go  forth.     Then  went  out  to  him  all  Judea 

and  were  baptized  of  him  in  Jordan.     Is.  xlix. ;  Matt.  iii. 
Say  to  them  that  are  in  darkness,  Shew  yourselves.     Is.  xlix. 
The  people  asked.  What  shall  we  do? — the  publicans.  What  shall 

we  do? — the  soldiers.  What  shall  we  do?    Luke  iii. 
Ye  shall  be  as  the  wings  of  a  dove  covered  with  silver.    Ps.  Ixviii. 

15  When  he  saw  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  come,  he  said,  O  genera- 

tion of  vipers,  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance.     Herod — 
that  fox — being  reproved  by  John.    Matt. ;  Luke. 

PART  II.  chap.  II.  16-III.  5.— JOHN'S  DISCIPLES  SEEK  CHRIST. 

Disciples  of  Johx  the  Baptist. 

16  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want.     He  shall  feed  his  flock 

like  a  shepherd ;  he  shall  gather  the  lambs.     Ps. ;  Is. 

17  Through  the  tender  mercy  of  our  God,  the  day-spriug  from  on  high 


74  THE   SOXG   COMPARED 

And  the  shadows  flee  away, 
Turn,  my  Beloved; 

And  be  thou  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart, 
Upon  the  mountains  of  Bether. 
III.  By  night  on  my  bed, 

I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loveth; 
I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not. 

2  I  will  rise  now,  and  go  about  the  city ; 
In  the  streets  and  in  the  broadways, 
Will  I  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth: 
I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not. 

3  The  watchmen  that  go  about  the  city  found  me: 
'Saw  ye  him,'  I  said,  'whom  my  soul  loveth?' 

4  It  was  but  a  little  that  I  j^assed  from  them, 
But  I  found  him  whom  my  soul  loveth ; 

I  held  him,  and  would  not  let  him  go. 

Until  I  had  brought  him  into  my  mother's  house, 

And  into  the  chamber  of  her  that  conceived  me. 

5  I  charge  you,  0  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
By  the  roes,  and  by  the  hinds  of  the  field, 
That  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake 

My  Love,  till  he  please. 


Canticle  III.— Chap.  iii.  6-Chap.  v.  1. 

Subject. —  jHie  Bridegroom  wifh  the  Bride. 

*       paet  i.  chap.  iii.  6-11. — the  king  i>r  his  beidal  chapviot. 

Feiends  of  the  Beidegeoom. 

G  Who  (or  what)  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness, 
Like  pillars  of  smoke ; 
Perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense, 
With  all  powders  of  the  merchant? 

7  Behold  his  Hfter,  which  is  Solomon's, 
Threescore  valiant  men  are  about  it. 
Of  the  valiant  of  Israel. 

8  They  all  hold  swords,  expert  in  war, 
Eveiy  man  his  sword  ujion  his  thigh. 
Because  of  fear  in  the  night. 

9  A  chariot  King  Solomon  made  himself, 
Of  the  wood  of  Lebanon; 

10  The  pillars  thereof  he  niade  of  silver, 
The  bottom  (or  the  seat)  thereof  gold. 


WITH   THE  GOSPELS   A2>D   ACTS.  75 

hath  visited  us,  to  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in  darkness,  and  in 

the  shadow  of  death.     Luke  i. 
The  Lord  God  will  make  my  feet  like  hinds'  feet,  and  he  will  make 

me  to  walk  upon  my  high  places,     Hab.  iii. 
TIL  The  people  sat  in  darkness.    All  men  mused  in  their  hearts  whether 

he  were  Christ.    The  Lord  whom  ye  seek.    Luke  iii. 
As  they  were  in  expectation  he  said,  One  mightier  cometh.    Luke. 

2  And  the  Jews  sent  priests  and  Levites  from  Jerusalem  to  ask  him, 

Who  art  thou?      Art  thou  Elias?      Art  thou  that  prophet? 
John  i. 
And  he  confessed,  I  am  not  the  Christ.    John  i. 

3  Why  baptizest  thou,  if  not  that  Christ?    There  standeth  One  among 

you  whom  ye  know  not,  and  I  knew  him  not.    John  i. 

4  When  all  the  people  were  baptized,  Jesus  also  was  baptized  of 

John ;  and  lo !  a  voice — This  is  my  beloved  Son.    Matt.  iii. 
He  came  unto  his  own.    They  followed  Jesus  and  said,  Eabbi, 
Where  dwellest  thou?    Come  and  see ;  and  they  abode  with  him 
that  day.     The  Word  dwelt  among  us.     John  i. 

5  John  bare  record,  I  saw  the  Spirit  descending  like  a  dove,  and  it 

abode  upon  him :  the  same  is  he  which  baptizeth  with  the  Holy 
Ghost — this  is  the  Son  of  God.  Looking  upon  Jesus,  he  saith, 
Behold  the  Lamb  of  God !    John  i. 


Canticle  III. — Chap.  iii.  6-Chap.  v.  1. 

Tmn.^— Chris  fs  Return  from  the  Wilderness  till  the  Last  Supper. 

papvt  i.  chap.  iii.  6-11. — the  wokd  tabernacling  with  men. 

The  Disciples. 

6  Jesus,  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  returned  (from  the  wilderness). 

The  city  was  moved,  saying.  Who  is  this?    Luke  iv. ;  Matt.  xxi. 
All  thy  garments  smell  of  myrrh,  aloes,  cassia.    The  Spirit  is  upon 
me,  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me.    Ps.  xlv. ;  Luke  iv. 

7  This  temple — he  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body — a  body  pre- 

pared.    He  was  in  the  wilderness  with  wild  beasts,  and  behold 
angels  ministered.    They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  bands.   Put 

8  up  thy  sword;  my  Father  Avould  give  me  legions  of  angels;  an 
angel  strengthening  him ;  at  the  sepulchre — two  men  in  shining 
garments.     John ;  Heb. ;  Mark  i. 

9  The  ark  and  tabernacle  of  shittim-wood.     Children  partakers  of 

flesh  and  blood,  himself  took  part  of  the  same.     Ex. ;  Heb.  ii. 
10  Pillars  of  wood,  upon  the  four  sockets  of  silver.     Ex.  xxvi. 
Thou  shalt  make  a  mercy-scat  of  pure  gold.     Ex.  xxv.  17. 


76  THE   SONG   COMPARED 

The  covering  of  it  purple ; 
The  midst  thereof  being  paved  with  love, 
For  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 
11  Go  forth,  O  ye  daughters  of  Zion, 
And  behold  King  Solomon, 

With  the  crown  wherewith  his  mother  crowned  him, 
In  the  day  of  his  espousals, 
And  in  the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart. 

part  ii.  chap.  iv.  1-7. — beauty  of  the  bride. 

The  King. 

IV.  Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love. 
Behold  thou  art  fair; 
Doves'  eyes  hast  thou  within  thy  locks. 
Thy  hair  is  as  a  flock  of  goats, 
That  appear  from  Mount  Gilead. 

2  Thy  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep  that  are  even  shorn, 
Which  came  up  from  the  washing. 

Whereof  every  one  bear  twins, 
And  barren  is  none  among  them. 

3  Like  a  thread  of  scarlet  are  thy  lips, 
And  thy  speech  is  comely. 

Like  a  piece  of  pomegranate. 
Are  thy  temples  within  thy  locks. 

4  Thy  neck  is  like  the  tower  of  David, 
Builded  for  an  armoury; 

A  thousand  bucklers  hang  thereon, 
All  shields  of  mighty  men. 

5  Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young  roes, 
That  are  twins,  which  feed  among  the  lilies. 

6  Until  the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away, 
I  will  get  me  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh, 

And  to  the  hill  of  frankincense. 

7  All  fair  art  thou,  my  love. 
There  is  no  spot  in  thee. 

part  iii.  chap.  iv.  8-v.  1.— garden  of  spices. 

The  King. 

8  With  me  from  Lebanon,  my  Spouse, 
With  me  from  Lebanon  come. 
Look  from  the  top  of  Amana, 
From  the  top  of  Shenir  and  Hermon ; 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS    AND    ACTS.  77 

A  veil  of  purple;  the  coveriug  A'eil.     The  purple  robe.  Ex.;  John. 

In  the  ark  two  tables  of  stone.     Thy  law  within  my  heart.     Ps 

The  ark  of  testament — the  new  testament  in  my  blood.     Ilev. 
11  Tell  the  daughter  of  Zion,  Behold  thy  King!    Jesus  in  Solomon's 
porch.     Behold  a  greater  than  Solomon.     Say,  Peace. 

I  am  an  alien  to  my  mother's  children.  Jesus  came  forth,  wear- 
ing the  crown  of  thorns — Behold  your  King.  With  desire  I  have 
desired  to  eat  this  passover  with  you.    Luke.  xxii. 

part  ii.  chap.  iv.  1-7.— spotlessness  of  the  church. 

Christ  to  his  Disciples. 

IV.  As  the  Father  loved  me,  so  have  I  loved  you.    John  xv. 

Now  ye  are  clean  through  the  word  I  have  spoken.     John  xv. 
The  pure  in  heart  shall  see  God.    Harmless  as  doves.    Matt. 
If  a  woman  have  long  hair,  it  is  a  glory — Mary  wiped  his  feet  with 
her  hair — ye  call  me  Lord.     1  Cor. ;  John ;  Luke. 

2  Blessed  are  ye  that  hunger — believe  in  me — he  that  eateth  me  shall 

live  by  me.  I  am  the  good  shepherd !  by  me  if  any  man  enter, 
he  shall  go  in  and  out,  and  find  pasture.  Thy  words  were  found, 
and  I  did  eat  them.     Luke;  John;  Jer. 

3  He  said  to  the  lej^ers,  Go — and  they  were  cleansed.    Luke  xvii. 
His  tongue  was  loosed,  and  he  spake  plain.     Mark  vii.  35. 

Sit  in  the  lowest  room,  that  he  may  say,  Go  up  higher.  Luke. 
Seest  thou  this  woman — she  hath  not  ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  Luke. 

4  Take  my  yoke,  for  it  is  easy.    A  woman  bowed  together,  who  could 

in  no  wise  lift  up  herself,  immediately  was  made  straight.  On 
this  rock  I  will  build  my  church,  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not 
prevail  against  it.     Matt.  xi. ;  Luke  xiii. ;  Matt.  xvi. 

5  Blessed  are  the  paps  thou  hast  sucked ;  yea  rather  they  that  hear 

the  word  and  keep  it.    The  breastplate  of  faith  and  love. 

6  Jesus  answered,  The  night  cometh.     I  go  my  way  to  him  that  sent 

me.  Jesus  began  to  show  that  he  must  go  to  Jerusalem,  be  killed, 
and  be  raised  again  the  third  day.     John;  Matt. 

7  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  that  he  lay  down  his  life.     John. 
The  glory  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them.    John  xvii. 

PART  ni.  chap.  IV.  8-V.  1. — closing  scenes  in  life  of  CHRIST. 

Christ  before  his  Death. 

8  Jesus  taketh  Peter,  James,  and  John  unto  a  high  mountain  apart, 

and  was  transfigured,  and  they  saw  his  glory;  Jesus  charged 
them.  Tell  the  vision  to  no  man,  till  the  Son  of  man  be  risen. 
Matt.  xvii. ;  Luke  ix. 


78  THE  SOXG   COMPAEED 

From  the  lions'  dens, 
From  the  mountains  of  the  leoixards. 
9  Thou  hast  ravished  my  heart,  my  Sister,  my  SjDOUse ; 
Thou  hast  ravished  my  heart  with  one  of  thine  eyes, 
With  one  chain  of  thy  neck. 

10  How  fair  is  thy  love,  my  Sister,  my  Spouse, 
How  much  better  is  thy  love  than  wine, 

And  the  smell  of  thine  ointments  than  all  spices ! 

11  Thy  lips,  O  my  Spouse,  drop  as  the  honey-comb. 
Honey  and  milk  are  under  thy  tongue; 

And  the  smell  of  thy  garments 
Is  like  the  smell  of  Lebanon. 

12  A  garden  enclosed,  my  Sister,  my  Spouse;  (Old  Bib.) 
A  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed. 

13  Thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of  pomegranates. 
With  pleasant  fruits;  camphire  and  spikenard; 

14  Spikenard  and  saffron,  calamus  and  cinnamon, 
With  all  trees  of  frankincense ; 

Myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices. 

15  A  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters, 
And  streams  from  Lebanon. 

16  Awake,  O  North  wind,  and  come  thou  South; 
Blow  upon  my  garden, 

That  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out. 


The  Bride. 

Let  my  Beloved  come  into  his  garden, 
And  eat  his  pleasant  fruits. 


THI^pKlNG. 

V.  I  am  come  into  my  garden. 
My  Sister,  my  Spouse ; 
I  have  gathered  my  myrrh. 
With  my  spice; 
I  have  eaten  my  honey-comb. 
With  my  honey ; 
I  have  drunk  my  wine, 
With  my  milk; 
Eat,  O  friends ; 
Drink,  yea  drink  abundantly, 
O  Beloved, 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AND   ACTS.  79 

Save  me  from  the  lion's  moutli,  my  darling  from  the  power  of  the 
dog.    Moses  and  Elias  spake  of  his  decease.     Ps.  xxii.;  Luke. 
9  They  crucified  him  and  two  others  with  him.    One  railed  on  him, 
but  the  other  said  unto  Jesus,  Lord,  remember  me  when  thou 
comest  into  thy  kingdom.    Luke  sxiii. 

10  The  Father  loveth  you,  because  ye  have  loved  me.     John  xvi. 
No  more  this  fruit  of  the  vine,  till  I  drink  it  new  with  you. 
She  hath  wrought  a  good  work — to  anoint  my  body.     Mark  xiv. 

11  They  gave  me  gall  for  my  meat,  vinegar  to  drink.    The  other  an- 

swered, This  man  hath  done  nothing  amiss.    Ps.  xxii. ;  Luke. 
Joseph  bought  fine  linen.   They  took  the  body  of  Jesus,  and  wound 
it  in  linen  clothes  with  the  spices.    Mark  xv. ;  John  xix. 

12  With  me  in  Paradise.     Where  they  crucified  him,  was  a  garden. 
Come  unto  me  and  drink.     The  sepulchre  sure,  sealing  the  stone. 

13  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified,  that  ye  bear  much  fruit.    John  xv. 
Mary  took  ointment  of  spikenard,  very  costly.    John  xii. 

14  I  will  plant  in  the  wilderness  the  cedar,  the  myrtle,  and  the  oil-tree. 

Nicodemus  brought  myrrh  and  aloes,  about  a  hundred  pound 
weight;  Salome,  sweet  spices.     Is.  xli.;  John  xix. 

15  The  water  I  shall  give,  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting 

life.     My  blood  is  drink  indeed.     John  iv.,  vi. 

16  I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  he  shall  give  you  anotber  Comforter. 

He  shall  glorify  me;  for  he  shall  take  of  mine  and  show  unto 
you.    Now  0  Father,  glorify  thou  me.    John  xvii. 


The  Apostles  to  Christ. 

They  said,  Where  wilt  thou  that  we  prepare  for  thee  the  passover? 
and  they  made  ready.    This  fruit  of  the  vine.    Matt.  xxvi. 


Cheist  to  the  Apostles. 

V.  When  the  hour  was  come  he  sat  down  with  the  twelve.    Matt. 
The  children  of  the  bride-chamber,  the  Bridegroom  with  them. 
I  have  finished  the  work  thou  gavest  me  to  do.     John  xvii. 
She  hath  anointed  my  body  beforehand  to  the  burying.    Matt. 
Immanuel — butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat — to  refuse  the  evil  and 

choose  the  good.    Word  sweeter  than  honey.    Is.  vii.;  Ps.  xix. 
The  cup  my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink?    John. 
Me  to  hope  on  my  mother's  breasts.     Milk  of  the  word.     Ps.  xxii. 
Ye  are  my  friends.    Take,  eaj:  this  is  my  body  broken  for  you. 
This  cuj)  is  the  new  testament  in  my  blood,  drink  ye  all  of  it. 
Having  loved  his  own,  he  loved  them  to  the  end.     John  xiii. 


80  THE  SONG   COMPARED 


Canticle  IV. — Chap.  v.  2-Chap.  viii.  4. 

Subject. — Tlie  Bridegroom^ s  Withdraival  and  Reappearance,  and  the 
Bride's  Glory. 

part  i.  chap,  v.  2-vi.  3.— sleep  and  sorrow. 

The  Bride. 

2  I  sleep,  but  my  heart  waketli. 

The  voice  of  my  Beloved  that  knocketh : 
'  Open  to  me,  my  sister, 
'My  love,  my  dove,  my  undefiled; 
'  For  my  head  is  filled  with  dew, 
'My  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.' 

3  'I  have  jiut  otFmy  coat; 
'How  shall  I  put  it  on? 
'I  have  washed  my  feet; 
'How  shall  I  defile  them?' 

4  My  Beloved  put  in  his  hand  by  the  hole  of  the  door, 
And  my  bowels  were  moved  for  him. 

5  I  rose  up  to  open  to  my  Beloved ; 
And  my  hands  dropped  myrrh. 

And  my  fingers  sweet-smelling  myrrh, 
Upon  the  handles  of  the  flock. 

6  I  opened  to  my  Beloved; 

But  my  Beloved  had  withdrawn  himself, 
And  was  gone. 

My  soul  failed,  when  [or  till]  he  spake; 
I  sought  him,  but  I  could  not  find  him, 
I  called  him,  but  he  gave  me  no  answer. 

7  The  watchmen  that  went  about  the  city  found  me, 
They  smote  me,  they  wounded  me ; 

The  keepers  of  the  walls  took  away  my  veil  from  me. 

8  I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
If  ye  find  my  Beloved, 

That  ye  tell  him,  that  I  am  sick  of  love. 

Daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

9  What  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved, 
O  thou  fairest  among  women? 

What  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved, 
That  thou  dost  so  charge  us  ? 


WITH   THE  GOSrELS   AND  ACTS.  81 


Canticle  IV. — Chap.  v.  2-Chap.  viii.  4. 

Time. — From  the  Agony  in  the  Garden  till  the  Evangelizing  of 
the  Samaritans. 

part  i.  chap.  v.  2-vi.  3. — gethseilane  and  the  sepulchre. 

Peter,  Jajces,  John,  Mary,  Salome,  and  others. 

2  Jesus  findetli  them  asleep — the  spirit  willing  but  the  flesh  weak. 
Jesus  saith  unto  Peter,  Watch  and  pray.     IMatt.  xxvi. 

Simon,  sleepest  thou  ?    Couldest  thou  not  watch  one  hour? 
He  took  Peter,  James,  and  John — whom  Jesus  loved.     Matt. 
He  saith  to  them,  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful  unto  death. 
His  sweat  was  as  great  drops  of  blood,  falling  to  the  ground. 

3  When  he  rose  up  from  prayer,  he  found  them  sleeping.  Luke  xxii. 
Neither  wist  they  what  to  answer  him.     Mark  xiv. 

When  he  returned,  he  found  them  asleep  again.    Mark  xiv. 
Peter  said,  I  know  not  the  man.    Matt.  xxvi. 

4  The  cock  crew,  and  the  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter. 
And  Peter  went  out  and  wept  bitterly.     Luke  xxii. 

5  The  first  of  the  week,  when  yet  dark,  they  came  to  the  sepulchre. 
They  prepared  spices  and  ointments.    Luke  xxiii. 

They  came,  bringing  the  spices  which  they  had  prepared.     Luke. 
And  said.  Who  shall  roll  us  away  the  stone  from  the  door? 

6  When  they  looked,  they  saw  that  the  stone  was  rolled  away. 
They  entered  in  and  found  not  the  body  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 
I  go  my  way.     Certain  of  us  went — but  him  they  saw  not. 
They  were  much  perplexed  thereabout.    The  bridegroom — away. 
Ye  shall  seek  me,  and  shall  not  find  me.     They  have  taken  away 

my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid  him. 

7  A  young  man,  having  a  linen  cloth  about  his  naked  body — the 

young  men  laid  hold  on  him ;  and  he  left  the  linen  cloth,  and 
fled  naked.     Did  I  not  see  thee  in  the  garden?    Mark  xiv. 

8  If  thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast  laid  him. 

A  woman  in  travail  hath  sorrow.  Ye  shall  weep  and  lament. 
They  that  had  been  with  him  mourned  and  wept.     John. 

A  Stranger  in  Jerusalem. 

9  What  manner  of  communications  are  these  that  ye  have,  as  ye 

walk  and  are  sad?  Art  thou  a  stranger  in  Jerusalem,  and  hast 
not  known  the  things  which  are  come  to  pass  in  these  days  ?  What 
things?    Concerning  .Jesus  of  Nazareth.    Luke. 


82  THE   SONG   COMPARED 

The  Soekowing  Bride. 

10  My  Beloved  is  wliite  and  ruddy, 
The  cliicfest  among  ten  thousand. 

11  His  head  is  the  most  fine  gold; 
His  locks  are  bushy, 

Black  as  a  raven. 

12  His  eyes  as  of  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters 
Washed  with  milk,  and  fitly  set. 

13  His  cheeks  as  a  bed  of  spices. 
As  sweet  flowers  ; 

His  lips  like  [red]  lilies, 
Dropping  sweet-smelling  myrrh. 

14  His  hands,  gold  rings 
Set  with  the  beryl; 

His  body,  bright  ivory  (Old  Bible) 
Overlaid  with  sapphires. 

15  His  legs,  pillars  of  marble 
Set  upon  sockets  of  fine  gold ; 
His  countenance  as  Lebanon, 

[His  appearance]  Excellent  as  the  cedars. 

16  His  mouth  is  most  sweet; 
Yea,  he  is  altogether  lovely. 

This  is  my  Beloved,  and  this  my  friend, 
O  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

DArGHTEES  or  Jerusalem. 

VI.  Whither  is  thy  beloved  gone,  0  thou  fairest  among  women? 
Whither  is  thy  beloved  turned  aside? 
That  we  may  seek  him  with  thee. 

The  Bride. 

2  My  Beloved  is  gone  down  into  his  garden, 
To  the  beds  of  spices, 

To  feed  in  the  gardens,  and  to  gather  lilies. 

3  I  am  my  Beloved's,  and  my  Beloved  is  mine; 
He  feedeth  among  the  lilies. 


PART  II.  CHAP.  VI.  4-10.— THE  BEIDEQEOOM'S  RETURN. 

The  King. 

4  Beautiful  art  thou,  O  my  love,  as  Tirzah, 
Comely  ars  Jerusalem, 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AND   ACTS.  83 

The  Widoaved  Church  iif  Jerusalem. 

10  The  precious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of  a  lamb  without  spot.     1  Pet.  i. 

Will  ye  also  go  away?    Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go?    John  vi. 

11  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.     The  head  of  Christ,  God.    Matt. ;  1  Cor. 
Jesus  about  thirty  years  of  age.     Thou  hast  the  dew  of  thy  youth. 

The  days  of  his  youth  hast  thou  shortened.     Luke. 

12  Jesus  wept — behold  how  he  loved  him !     Jesus,  beholding  the 

young  man,  loved  him.     The  Lord  looked  upon  Peter. 
13  I  gave  my  cheeks  to  them  that  plucked  off  the  hair.     The  glory 
of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.    Is. ;  2  Cor, 
Grace  is  poured  into  thy  lips.     Neither  was  guile  found  in  his 
mouth.     Never  man  spake  like  this  man.     Psalm ;  2  Peter. 
14  The  Father  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son.     Pharaoh 
put  his  ring  on  Joseph's  hand,  and  made  him  ruler. 
A  body  prepired.     A  Lamb  without  blemish.     Joseph  begged  the 
body  of  Jesus.     The  Son  of  man  girt  with  a  golden  girdle. 
15  Upholding  all  things.     They  brake  not  his  legs.     Heb.  i. ;  John. 
His  feet  like  unto  fine  brass.     They  pierced  my  feet.    Rev. ;  Ps. 
The  snow  of  Lebanon.     His  face  did  shine  as  the  sun.     If  they  do 
these  things  in  a  green  tree.     Matt.  xvii. ;  Luke  xsiii. 
16  He  breathed  on  them  and  said,  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost. 

He  hath  done  nothing  amiss.     I  find  in  him  no  fault.   Luke  xsiii. 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  a  prophet  mighty  in  deed  and  word ;  we 
trusted  that  he  should  have  redeemed  Israel.    Luke  xxiv. 

Secret  Disciples. 

VI.  Joseph,  a  disciple,  but  secretly,  came  and  took  the  body  of  Jesus ; 
also  Nicodemus,  who  came  by  night.  They  came  unto  the 
sepulchre,  and  certain  others  with  them.  John ;  Luke. 

Mary,  Salome,  Peter,  Johis^,  etc. 

2  In  the  place  there  was  a  garden,  there  laid  they  Jesus.     John. 
They  wound  the  body  of  Jesus  in  the  clothes  with  the  spices. 
To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise.     Luke  xxiii. 

3  Then  went  in  also  that  other  disciple,  and  saw  and  believed. 
He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee,  there  shall  ye  see  him.     Matt. 


part  II.  CHAP.  VI.  4-10. — RESURRECTION  OF  CHRIST. 

Christ  Risejt  from  the  Dead. 

4  Jesus  met  them.  All  hail.     Ye  are  a  city  set  on  a  hill.    Matt. 
Seen  of  five  hundred.    New  Jerusalem,  as  a  bride  adorned. 


84  THE  SONG   COMPARED 

Terrible  as  an  army  with  banners, 

5  Turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me, 
For  they  have  overcome  me :   . 
Thy  hair  is  as  a  flock  of  goats, 
That  appear  from  Gilead : 

6  Thy  teeth  as  a  flock  of  sheep, 
^Vhich  go  up  from  the  washing, 
Wliereof  every  one  beareth  twins, 
And  barren  is  not  one  among  them. 

7  As  a  piece  of  a  pomegranate, 
Are  thy  temples  within  thy  locks. 

8  Threescore  are  those  queens,  and  fourscore  concubines, 
And  virgins  without  number. 

9  My  dove,  my  undefiled,  is  but  one ; 
She  is  the  only  one  of  her  mother, 

She  is  the  choice  one  of  her  that  bare  her.  w 

The  daughters  saw  her,  and  blessed  her; 
The  queens  and  the  concubines,  and  they  praised  her, 
10  'Who  is  she  that  looketh  forth  as  the  morning, 
'  Fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun, 
'Terrible  as  an  army  with  banners?' 


part  iii.  chap.  vi.  11. — vii.  10. — glory  of  the  bride. 
The  Bride. 

11  Into  the  garden  of  nuts  I  went  down. 
To  see  the  fruits  of  the  valley. 

To  see  whether  the  vine  flourished,  the  pomegranates  budded, 

12  Or  ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  made  me 
Like  the  chariots  of  Ammi-nadib. 

Daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

13  Eeturn,  return,  0  Shulamite  (or  Solomonite); 
Eeturn,  return,  that  we  may  look  upon  thee. 

The  Bride. 

What  will  ye  see  in  the  Shulamite? 
As  it  were  the  company  of  two  armies. 

Daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

VII.  How  beautiM  are  thy  feet  with  shoes, 
0  Prince's  Daughter  I 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AXD   ACTS.  85 

Ye  sliall  receive  power  ;  in  my  name  cast  out  devils.     Acts. 

5  Their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew  him,  and  he  vanished  out 

of  their  sight.     Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended. 
The  Comforter  shall  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance,  what- 
ever I  have  said  unto  you.    John  xiv.     Cant.  v.  2. 

6  Jesus  saith  to  Peter,  Feed  my  lambs — feed  my  sheep.     Satan  hath 

desired  to  sift  you  as  wheat,  but  I  have  prayed  that  thy  faith  fail 
not.  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed. 
John  XX.,  xxi. ;  Luke  xxii. 

7  None  durst  ask  him,  Who  art  thou?    Peter  was  grieved  because  he 

said  the  third  time,  Lovest  thou  me?    John  xxi. 

8  The  kings  of  the  Gentiles  exercise  lordship,  their  princes  exercise 

dominion,  their  great  ones  exercise  authoritj'.     Luke. 

9  But  not  so  among  you,  for  one  is  yuur  Master,  and  all  ye  are 

brethren.     That  they  all  may  be  one.    My  only  one.     Jenisa- 
lem,  the  mother  of  us  all.     Matt.:  Ps.  xxii.  (marg.);  John;  Gal. 
Their  rulers,  when  they  saw  the  boldness  of  Peter  and  John,  mar- 
velled and  could  say  nothing  against  it.     Acts  iv. 
10  The  chief  priests  doubted  whereunto  this  would  grow.     Acts  v. 
All  in  the  council  saw  his  face  as  the  face  of  an  angel.    Acts  vi. 
As  he  reasoned  of  judgment  to  come,  Felix  trembled.    Acts  xxiv. 


PART  III.  CHAP.  VI.  11-VII.  10. — THE  DESCEKT  OF  THE  HOLY  GHOST. 

The  Disciples  RETURiaN'G  from  Mouxt  Olivet. 

11  They  returned  to  Jerusalem — from  the  mount  into  an  upper  room. 
He  commanded  them  to  wait  for  the  promise  of  the  Father. 

Ye  shall  be  baptised  with  the  Holy  Ghost  not  many  days  hence. 

12  Suddenly  there  came  a  sound  from  heaven,  as  of  a  rushing  mighty 

wind,  and  they  were  all  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost.    Acts  ii. 

The  Devout  Jews. 

13  They  were  in  Solomon's  porch.    As  the  lame  man  held  them,  the 

people  ran  to  them  in  the  porch  called  Solomon's,  wondering. 

Peter  axd  the  Apostles. 

Peter  answered.  Why  look  ye  so  earnestly  on  us?    Acts  iii. 
As  though  by  our  own  holiness  we  had  made  this  man  walk,  ib. 

Devout  Inquirers. 

VII.  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth 
good  tidings.    0  Zion,  that  publisheth  peace. 


86  THE   SONG   COMPAEED 

The  joints  of  thy  thighs  are  like  jewels, 
The  work  of  the  hands  of  a  cunning  workman. 
2  Thy  girdle-clasp  is  like  a  round  goblet, 
Which  wanteth  not  mingled  wine  (marg,); 
Thy  vesture  like  a  heaiJ  of  wheat, 
Set  about  with  lilies. 

5  Thy  two  breasts  like  two  young  roes  that  are  twins. 
4  Thy  neck  is  as  a  tower  of  ivory; 

Thine  eyes  like  the  fish-pools  of  Heshbon, 
By  the  gate  of  Bath-rabbim  ; 
Thy  nose  (or  face)  as  the  tower  of  Lebanon, 
Which  looketh  toward  Damascus. 

6  Thine  head  upon  thee  is  like  Carmel, 
And  the  hair  of  thine  head  like  purple — 
The  King  is  held  in  the  galleries. 

6  How  fair  and  how  pleasant  art  thou, 

0  love,  for  delights ! 

7  This  thy  stature  is  like  to  a  palm-tree. 
And  thy  breasts  to  its  clusters.     (Old  Bible). 

8  I  said  I  will  go  up  to  the  palm-tree, 

1  will  take  hold  of  the  boughs  thereof. 

Now  also  thy  breasts  shall  be  as  clusters  of  the  vine. 
And  the  smell  of  thy  breath  like  [citron-]  apples  • 

9  And  the  loords  of  thy  mouth  like  the  best  wine 
For  my  Beloved,  that  goetli  down  sweetly. 
Causing  to  speak  the  lips  of  those  that  are  asleep. 

10  I  am  my  Beloved's,  and  his  desire  is  towards  me. 


part  iv.  chap.  vii.  11-viii.  4.— gaedelf  in  the  fields. 
The  Bride. 

11  Come,  my  Beloved,  let  us  go  forth  into  the  field; 
Let  us  lodge  in  the  villages. 

12  Let  us  get  up  early  to  the  vineyards ; 
Let  us  see  if  the  vine  flourish. 

The  tender  grape  appear,  the  pomegranates  bud  forfh. 
There  will  I  give  thee  my  loves. 

13  The  mandrakes  give  a  smell; 

And  at  our  gates,  all  manner  of  pleasant  fruits, 
New  and  old,  I  have  laid  up  for  thee,  O  my  Beloved. 
VIIL  O  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother. 

That  sucked  the  breasts  of  my  mother! 

When  I  should  find  thee  Avithout,  I  would  kiss  thee; 

Yea,  I  should  not  be  despised. 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AND   ACTS.  87 

The  whole  body  fitly  joined  and  compacted.    The  multitude  of  one 
heart  and  one  soul.     His  workmanship,    Eph,  iv. ;  Acts  iv. 

2  They  shall  be  as  the  [ruby]  stones  of  a  crown ;  as  through  wine 

filled  like  bowls.     These  men  are  full  of  new  wine.  Zech.;  Acts  ii. 
Her  clothing  wrought  gold.    They  continued  in  breaking  bread. 
Eaiment  of  needlework.     No  man  durst  join  himself  to  them. 

3  Your  faith  groweth  and  the  charity  of  all  aboundeth.     2  Thess.  i. 

4  A  yoke  upon  the  neck.     Stand  fast  in  the  liberty.     Acts;  Gal. 
Great  grace  was  upon  them  all.    And  believers  were  added  to  the 

Lord,  multitudes  both  of  men  and  women.    Acts  iv.,  v. 
Ananias  kept  part  of  the  price.     Peter  said,  Satan  hath  filled  thy 

heart  to  lie.    The  boldness  of  Peter  and  John,    Acts.  v. 
6  A  crown  that  fadeth  not  away — a  crown  of  righteousness. 
They  stoned  Stephen.     He  killed  James  with  the  sword.    Acts. 
When  they  prayed,  the  place  shook — hand  of  Lord  with  them. 

6  Having  favor  with  all  the  people.     The  people  magnified  them. 

Eejoice  with  Jerusalem,  all  ye  that  love  her.     Acts;  Is. 

7  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  the  j^alm-tree.     Ye  may  suck,  and 

be  satisfied  with  the  breasts  of  her  consolations.     Ps. ;  Is. 

8  Ye  shall  receive  the  Holy  Ghost;  for  the  promise  is  to  you.    Then 

they  gladly  received  the  word.     Acts  ii. 
These  ars  not  drunken — but  I  will  pour  out  of  my  Spirit. 
The  savor  of  his  knowledge,  for  we  are  a  sweet  savor  of  Christ. 

9  They  that  received  the  word  were  baptized;  the  same  day  were 

added  unto  them  three  thousand  souls ;  they  continued  in  fellow- 
10  ship,  praising  God,  rejoicing  they  were  counted  worthy  to  suffer 
for  his  name.     Acts  ii.,  v. 


part  iv.  chap.  vii.  11-viii.  4. — coxveesiox  of  the  samaritans. 
The  Disciples  preaching  through  Judea  and  Samaria. 

11  Scattered  abroad  they  went  everywhere  preaching  the  word. 
And  they  preached  in  many  villages  of  the  Samaritans.    Acts. 

12  Now,  when  the  apostles  which  were  at  Jerusalem  heard  that  Sa- 

maria had  received  the  word  of  God,  they  sent  unto  them  Peter 
and  John.     Acts  viii. 
And  there  was  great  joy  in  that  city.    Acts  viii. 

13  Many  of  the  Samaritans  believed  for  the  saying  of  the  woman;  and 

many  more  believed  because  of  His  own  word.    The  people  with 
one  accord  gave  heed  unto  what  Philip  spake. 
VIII.  Whom  having  not  seen,  ye  love.     This  same  Jesus  shall  so  come 
as  ye  have  seen  him  go.     1  Peter ;  Acts  i. 
Whosoever  ashamed  of  me,  of  him  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed. 
Grant  that  with  boldness  thy  servants  may  speak. 


88  THE   SONG    COMPAEED 

2  I  would  lead  thee,  aud  bring  tliee  into  my  mother's  house ; 
Thou  woulds<  instruct  me ;  I  would  cause  thee  to  drink 
Of  spiced  wine,  of  the  juice  of  my  pomegranate. 

3  His  left  hand  should  be  under  my  head, 

And  his  right  hand  should  embrace  me,  -"^ 

4  I  charge  you,  0  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
That  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake 

My  Love,  until  he  please. 

Canticle  V. — Chap.  viii.  5-14. 

Subject. — The  Little  Sister. 
Daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

5  Who  is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness, 
Leaning  upon  her  Beloved? 

The  King. 

Under  the  apple-tree  I  raised  thee  up ; 
There  thy  mother  brought  thee  forth: 
There  she  brought  thee  forth  that  bare  thee. 

The  Bride. 

6  Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart, 
As  a  seal  upon  thine  arm  : 

For  love  is  strong  as  death ; 
Jealousy  cruel  as  the  grave ; 
The  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire, 
Which  hath  a  most  vehement  flame. 

7  Many  waters  cannot  quench  love. 
Neither  can  the  floods  drown  it. 

If  a  man  would  give  all  the  substance  of  his  house  for  love^ 
It  would  utterly  be  contemned. 

The  Bridal  Virgins  speaking  of  a  Sister. 

8  We  have  a  little  sister, 
And  she  hath  no  breasts; 
What  shall  we  do  for  our  sister, 

In  the  day  when  she  shall  be  spoken  for? 

9  If  she  be  a  wall, 

We  will  build  upon  her  a  palace  of  silver ; 

And  if  she  be  a  door, 

We  will  inclose  her  with  boards  of  cedar. 


"WITH   THE   GOSPELS   A^D    ACTS.  89 

2  And  they,  when  they  had  testified  and  preached  returned  to  Je- 
rusalem. This  fruit  of  the  vine — tlie  day  when  I  drink  it  new 
with  you  in  my  Father's  kingdom.  Acts ;  Matt. 
3, 4  Then  had  the  churches  rest  throughout  all  Judca,  and  Galilee, 
and  Samaria,  and  were  edified;  and  walking  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  and  in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  wore  multiplied. 
Grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto 
the  day  of  redemption.     Acts  ix,;  Eph.  iv. 

Canticle  V. — Chap.  viii.  5-14. 

Time. —  Calling  of  the  Gentiles  till  the  Close  of  Revelation. 
Churches  in  Judea. 

5  I  went  into  Arabia — afterwards  I  came,  and  was  unknown  by  face 

to  the  churches  of  Judea — they  glorified  God  in  nie.    Gal. 

Christ  from  Heaven^. 

Saul  fell  to  the  earth.     Arise,  stand  upon  thy  feet.     Acts  ix. 
Last  of  all  he  was  seen  of  me,  as  of  one  born  out  of  due  time — that 
in  me  Christ  might  show  all  long-sufiering.    Cor. ;  Tim. 

The  Church. 

6  Barnabas  exhorted  them  all,  that  with  pnrposeof  heart  they  should 

cleave  unto  the  Lord.     Acts  xi. 

Neither  count  I  my  life  dear.     If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema  ]\Iaran-atha.     Acts  ;  1  Cor. 

He  maketh  his  ministers  a  flame  of  fire.     Heb.  i. 

Fervent  in  spirit — quench  not  the  Spirit.     Eom.  xii. ;  1  Thess.  v. 

7  Who  shall  sepai'ate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ?    Neither  death, 

nor  life,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able.     Eom.  viii. » 
Though  I  bestow  my  goods,  and  not  love,  it  profiteth  nothing. 
I  count  all  things  loss — but  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ.  1  Cor.  Phil. 

The  Hebrew  Church  speaking  of  the  Gentiles. 

8  God  gave  them  the  like  gift  as  he  did  unto  us.     Acts  xi. 
Kejoice  thou  barren  that  bearest  not.     Gal.  iv. 

The  apostles  and  elders  came  to  consider  this  matter.    Paul  and 
Barnabas  declared  the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles. 

9  God  visited  the  Gentiles.    I  will  build  the  ruins.     Acts  xv. 

I  laid  the  foundation,  another  buildeth  thereon — silver.     1  Cor. 
God  had  opened  the  door  of  faith  unto  the  Gentiles.  Acts  xiv. 
My  sentence  is,  that  we  trouble  not  the  Gentiles.    Acts  xv. 


90  THE  SOXG   C03IPARED 

The  Little  Sistek. 

10  I  am  a  wall,  and  my  breasts  like  towers  ; 
Then  was  I  in  his  eyes  as  one  that  found  favor. 

11  A  vineyard  had  Solomon  at  Baal-hamon; 
He  let  out  the  vineyard  unto  keepers : 
Every  one  for  the  fruit  thereof, 

Was  to  bring  a  thousand  pieces  of  silver. 

12  My  vineyard,  which  is  mine,  is  before  me ; 
Thou,  O  Solomon,  must  have  a  thousand. 

And  those  that  keep  the  fruit  thereof  two  hundred. 

The  King. 

13  Thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gardens. 
The  companions  hearken  to  thy  voice; 
Cause  me  to  hear  it. 

The  Bride. 

14  Make  haste,  my  Beloved, 

And  be  thou  like  to  a  roe,  or  to  a  young  hart 
Upon  the  mountains  of  spices. 


WITH   THE   GOSPELS   AND   ACTS.  91 

The  Gektile  Church. 

10  No  more  strangers — built  on  foundation — milk  of  Gentiles. 
They  (Gentiles)  rejoiced — to  the  Gentiles  repentance  unto  life. 

11  The  vineyard  of  the  Lord  is  the  house  of  Israel.     A  householder 

planted  a  vineyard,  let  it  out  to  husbandmen,  sent  his  servants 
that  they  might  receive  the  fruits  thereof,  but  the  husbandmen 
sent  them  away  empty.    Matt.  xxi. 

12  He  will  let  out  the  vineyard  to  other  husbandmen ; 

Which  shall  render  him  the  fruits  in  their  seasons.    Matt.  xxi. 
They  which  preach  the  Gosjiel  should  live  of  the  Gospel.    1.  Cor. 

Christ  by  the  Apostles. 

13  I  have  sent  mine  angel  to  testify.    The  Lord  spake  to  Paul  by  a 

vision.  Hold  not  thy  peace.  We  will  give  ourselves  to  prayer 
and  the  word.    Let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come. 

The  Church. 

14  All  that  love  his  appearing.     Looking  for  and  hasting  unto  the 

coming  of  the  day  of  God.    Surely  I  come  quickly ;  Amen. 
Even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus;  Amen.    2  Tim.;  2  Pet,;  Eev. 


PART   II. 

PEACTICAL  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  SONG. 


Oh  heavenly  Spirit  of  especiall  power, 
That  in  thy  hand  this  Praise  of  Praises  holdest ; 
And  from  the  top  of  truth's  triumphant  tower, 
The  hidden  sense  of  fairest  thoughts  unfoldest; 
Inspire  this  heart  and  humble  soule  of  mine, 
With  some  sweet  sparkle  of  thy  power  divine. 

B.  Vennard. 


93 


I. 

THE  ANOINTED  KING. 

HIS  KISS— HIS  LOVE— HIS  NAME— HIS  CHMIBERS. 

Let  him  kiss  me  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth :  for  thy  love  is  better 
than  wine.  Becaase  of  the  savour  of  thy  good  ointments  (thy  Name  is  as 
Ointment  poured  forth),  therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee.  Draw  me, 
we  will  run  after  thee.  The  King  hath  brought  me  into  his  chambers; 
we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  thee,  we  will  remember  thy  love  more  than 
wine:  the  upright  love  thee. — Chap.  i.  2,  3,  4. 

THE  KISS  OF  THE  ANOIXTED  KING. 

Let  him  kiss  me  loith  the  kisses  of  his  mouth. — A  kiss  is  the 
pledge  of  peace,  and  the  prayer  for  such  a  token  forms  a  most 
jfit  commencement  for  these  communications  between  Solomon 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  the  Shulamite  the  daughter  of  Peace. 
It  is  the  voice  of  the  Ancient  Church  praying  for  the  jjersonal 
appearing  of  the  Messiah  promised  to  the  fathers_,  the  long- 
cherished  Desire  of  all  nations,  the  Hope  of  Israel  deferred  till 
the  heart  is  sick.  Types  have  come,  Moses  and  the  prophets 
have  come,  Aaron  and  the  priests  have  come,  and  last  of  all, 
David  and  the  kings  have  come ;  but  let  Him  now  come  him- 
self, the  true  prophet,  priest,  and  king,  of  all  his  people.  '  I 
hear  not  Moses  for  he  is  slow  of  speech,  the  lips  of  Isaiah  are 
unclean,  Jeremiah  cannot  speak  because  he  is  a  child,  and  all 
the  prophets  are  dumb ;  Himself,  himself  of  whom  they  speak, 
let  him  speak.'  (Bernard).  His  messengers  betrothed  me  not 
to  themselves  but  to  Him,  and  with  tlie  kisses  of  his  own  mouth 
let  him  therefore  kiss  me.  The  law  came  to  our  fathers  in 
fire  and  thunder  and  earthquake,  but  let  there  come  now  the 
still  small  voice  of  the  Prince  of  peace ;  let  it  be  no  longer  the 
command  and  the  curse,  but  the  free  grace  of  him  in  whom 
righteousness  and  peace  kiss  each  other.  Ceremonies  and 
95 


96  THE   AXOINTED   KING.  CHAP.  I.  2. 

sacrifices  have  been  granted,  and  such  communion  as  might  be 
had  through  these  v/e  have  enjoyed;  but  we  have  heard  the 
voice  of  One  who  said  '  sacrifice  and  oiFering  thou  wouklst  not, 
lo  I  come;'  and  let  him  therefi)re  come,  let  me  see  himself,  and 
let  him  kiss  me  no  longer  by  the  lips  of  messengers  standing 
in  his  room,  but  with  the  kisses  of  his  own  mouth  let  him  kiss 
me  now. 

The  Bride  names  him  not,  because,  like  Mary  at  the  sepul- 
chre, her  heart  is  too  full  of  him  at  once  to  utter  his  name; 
she  names  him  not,  because  he  is  the  First  and  the  Last,  none 
along  with  him,  or  like  to  him,  or  next  to  him,  from  whom 
he  needs  be  distinguished;  she  names  him  not,  because  she 
speaks  not  to  him  as  present,  yet  cannot  speak  of  him  as  absent, 
for  he  is  neither — never  absent  can  he  be,  yet  not  present  as 
she  would  have  him;  and  she  names  him  not,  herself  imme- 
diately assigning  the  reason,  because  ^lis  name  is  as  ointment 
poured  forth,'  which  hath  filled  all  the  house  of  God  on  earth; 
all  the  virgins  know  it,  and  there  is  no  need  to  utter  it.  But 
nay,  rather  she  does  name  him,  immediately  supplying  the 
omission ;  for  in  the  nest  verse  she  employs  no  mark  of  com- 
parison as  we  do,  but  simply  announces,  'Ointment  poured 
forth  is  thy  Name,'  the  Messiah,  the  Christ,  the  Anointed  One, 
thee  I  address,  that  is  thy  name. 

But  it  is  the  prayer  equally  of  the  Church  in  all  ages;  for 
indeed  He  has  come,  and  she  has  seen  him,  but  he  has  gone 
again,  and  save  with  the  eye  of  faith  she  sees  him  no  more  till 
he  shall  return  to  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb.  Then 
indeed  shall  we  know  that  'his  mouth  is  most  sweet  and  that 
he  is  altogether  lovely.'  But  meanwhile  the  believing  soul 
entreats  first  the  kiss  of  reconciliation — like  that  with  which 
the  father  embraced  his  prodigal  son  when  he  fell  on  his  neck 
and  kissed  him,  or  that  of  Joseph  embracing  his  amazed 
brethren  when  he  kissed  them  one  by  one  and  wept  upon 
them.  Bride  though  she  be,  she  is  bride  to  the  slain  Lamb 
of  God,  from  whom  she  has  been  wholly  estranged,  who  has 
redeemed  her  with  his  own  blood  and  forgiven  her  all  tres- 
passes; from  whom  she  daily  estranges  herself,  and  who  day 
by  day  forgives  her  debts,  and  daily  says  to  her,  'except  I 


CHAP.  I.  2.  HIS  KISS.  97 

wash  thee  thou  hast  no  part  with  me.'  The  first  kiss  of  re- 
conciled love  to  her  as  a  sinner  was  inconceivably  sweet;  and 
if  after  relapse  the  repeated  token  of  favor  loses  its  prccious- 
ness,  it  is  time  for  her  to  enquire  if  she  is  numbering  herself 
now  with  the  ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  who  need  no  re- 
pentance and  find  no  forgiveness. 

The  reconciled  soul  entreats  next  the  kiss  of  solemn  nuptial 
contract,  not  unused  by  men  in  the  marriage  covenant,  and  in 
figure  condescendingly  vouchsafed  by  the  great  Bridegroom 
of  the  Church.  In  redemption  He  grants  not  deliverance  only, 
but  freedom;  not  freedom  only,  but  adoption;  not  adoption  only 
as  a  son,  but  espousal  as  a  Bride  (Theodoret).  The  contract, 
indeed,  lias  been  already  sealed  on  the  day  of  first  believing, 
'I  will  betroth  thee  unto  me  in  righteousness;'  the  marriage 
itself  concluded,  ^Behold  I  am  married  unto  you,  and  thou 
shalt  no  more  call  me  Baali,  my  Lord,  but  Ishi,  my  Husband.' 
Yet  meanwhile  and  until  the  final  supper  of  the  Lamb,  it  is  a 
contract  permitting  and  requiring  the  renewal  of  its  seals;  an 
espousal  demanding  frequent  repetition  of  its  solemn  pledges. 
And,  trembling  soul,  lest  thou  fear  to  have  no  portion  in  His 
grace,  listen  to  the  manner  in  which  he  invites  thee  to  enter 
this  closest  covenant,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ;  take  up  my  yoke  and 
learn  of  me,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls;  for  my  yoke 
is  easy,  and  my  burden  light.'  It  is  the  marriage  bond  which 
he  Invites  thee  to  share  along  with  him,  in  reference  to  the 
emblematic  yoke  said  to  have  been  placed  upon  the  necks  of 
bridegroom  and  bride.  Thy  marriage  union  with  the  law  has 
been  an  unjust  yoke,  for  through  thy  guilty  weakness  the  holy, 
just,  and  good  commandment  has  become  to  thee  as  a  hard 
taskmaster ;  righteously  requiring  thee  to  run  its  heavenward 
race  when  thou  hast  fallen,  and  canst  not  move — to  bear  its 
weighty  burden  when  thou  art  already  sick  unto  death.  But 
Jesus  interposes, — Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  take  up  my  yoke,  for  my  yoke  is  easy.  Great 
as  the  disparity  may  appear.  His  is  no  unjust  yoke,  for  he  is 
thy  glorious  and  perfect  counterpart ;  all  sin,  all  weakness,  all 
death  in  thee — all  righteousness,  all  strength,  all  life  in  Him. 


98  THE   ANOINTED   KING.  CHAP.  I.  2. 

Leave  thou,  then,  both  the  covenant  command  and  the  cove- 
nant curse  of  the  law,  and  say  thou,  ^Lct  him  kiss  me  with  the 
kisses  of  his  mouth.' 

Yea  as  of  old  a  wayworn  exiled  man, 
Meeting  the  daugliter  of  his  mother's  house, 
Owned  her  at  once  his  heaven-affianced  bride 
(Though  to  be  won  by  servitude  and  toil), 
And  Eachel  kissed,  and  as  he  kissed  her  wept. 
And  years  were  days  when  measured  by  his  love. 
So  meeting  in  Thine  own  ajipointed  hour 
Mercy's  long-chosen  ones,  with  yearning  heart 
Rejoicing  over  them  with  kind  delight. 
Betroth  them  to  Thyself  in  faith  and  truth. 

Met.  Meditations. 

But  further,  the  believer  asks  the  kiss  of  divine  friendship 
and  fellowship,  in  constant  tokens  of  that  love  like  to  which 
the  soul  has  no  joy  on  earth,  and  in  the  hastening  of  the  actual 
sight  face  to  face  of  him  whom  having  not  seen  he  loves.  But 
this  will  recur  again  in  considering  the  concluding  feature  in 
the  description  of  the  glorious  Redeemer's  person.  IMean- 
while  we  have  only  to  add  that  the  kiss  of  the  mouth  is  not 
merely  expletive,  but  is  descriptive  of  closest  fellowship,  in 
contrast  with  more  distant  salutation.  In  reference  to  this  the 
patriarch  Job  portraying  the  process  by  which  the  idolater  is 
secretly  enticed  to  adore  the  moon  walking  in  brightness, 
speaks  of  Hhe  hand  kissing  the  mouth'  (xxxi.  27,  marg.);  and 
an  excellent  old  translator  renders  this  commencement  of  the 
Song  'O  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth  let  him  kisse  mine' 
(Fenner).     Let  us  now  hear  the  whole  substance  of  the  words: 

His  mouth  the  joy  of  heaven  reveals; 

His  kisses  from  above. 
Are  pardons,  promises,  and  seals 
Of  everlasting  love. 

Ershine. 
• 

BETTER  THAN  WINE  HIS  LOVE. 

For  thy  love  is  better  than  wine. — Wine  is  the  highest  of  the 
luxuries  of  earth,  and  is  here  used  to  comjtrehend  them  all ; 
even  as  the  '  banquet  of  wine '  at  which  Esther  entertained 


CHAP.  I.  2.  HIS  LOVE.  99 

her  consort  and  king  was  obviously  a  feast  of  the  choicest  deli- 
cacies, 4he  banquet  which  she  had  prepared/  though  wine 
alone  is  expressed.  The  love  referred  to  is  not  simply  the 
everlasting  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to'  his  Church,  but 
is  rather  the  enjoyment  of  that  love  in  its  free  communica- 
tion, when  the  soul  tastes  and  sees  that  the  Lord  is  good;  for 
it  is  the  experience  of  the  love  that  is  characterized  as  excel- 
lent above  all  earthly  delights.  'In  whom  though  now  we 
see  Him  not,  yet  believing,  we  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory.'  Neither  is  it  the  future  enjoyment  of  Christ's 
love  in  heaven,  but  the  present  enjoyment  of  His  love  on  earth, 
that  is  better  than  all  the  joys  of  earth  together — 'thou  hast 
put  gladness  in  my  heart,  more  than  in  the  time  that  their 
corn  and  wine  increased.'  Without  corn  and  without  wine, 
the  bride  of  Christ  rejoices  more  in  His  love  than  in  all  abun- 
dance: 'Although  the  fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  fruit 
shall  be  in  the  vine,  the  labor  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the 
fields  shall  yield  no  meat;  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I 
will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation'  (Hab.  iii.  17,  18).  Nor 
is  it  simply  that  the  love  is  purer  and  more  lasting,  and  there- 
fore better;  but  at  the  moment,  and  in  reference  to  mere  de- 
liglit,  divine  love  is  better  far  than  wine.  More  cheering  and 
reviving  to  the  sorrowful  or  the  fainting  soul  than  strong  drink 
to  him  that  is  ready  to  perish,  or  wine  to  him  that  is  of  a  heavy 
heart,  is  the  love  of  Christ  in  the  believer,  when  he  drinks 
and  forgets  his  poverty  and  remembers  his  misery  no  more. 
More  also  in  the  season  of  gladness  than  wine  to  the  animal 
spirits,  is  the  love  of  Christ  exhilarating  to  the  spiritual  man, 
and,  through  the  inward  spirit,  to  the  entire  person  in  mind 
and  body ;  making  men  forget  adversity,  making  them  forget 
prosperity,  by  the  overflowing  of  its  joys.  Yea,  Bride  of  the 
Lamb,  if  thy  Lord  fills  thine  earthly  cup,  and  thine  eye  is  so 
fixed  on  the  giver  as  to  overlook  the  gift;  if,  captivated  with 
His  beauty,  and  'counting  all  things  loss  for  his  excellence,' 
the  wine  is  spilt  in  thy  hand ;  the  world  will  mock  thee,  for 
they  see  not  Him  who  replenished  the  cup,  but  the  King  will 
never  forget  the  devotion  of  thy  heart,  when  deed  rather  than 
word  declared,  'Thy  love  is  better  than  wine.' 


100  THE   ANOINTED   KING.  CHAP.  I.  3. 

The  love  here  commended  is  specially  the  love  of  God  shed 
abroad  in  the  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost  given  to  us ;  and  when 
the  Holy  Ghost  was  thus  given  of  old  to  the  afflicted  Bride  of 
Christ,  their  enemies  saw  it  and  said,  'These  men  are  full  of 
new  wine;'  yet  wine  of  earth  it  was  not,  but  'love  better  than 
wine.'  To  the  believer  the  command  is  issued,  *Be  not  drunk 
with  wine,  but  be  filled  with  the  Spirit,'  because  the  Spirit  in- 
ebriates not,  yet  exhilarates  and  overcomes  the  soul.  One 
single  luxury  alone  did  Christ  create  during  his  whole  sojourn 
on  earth,  it  was  in  the  first  of  all  his  miracles,  and  that  luxury 
was  wine — better  wine  doubtless  than  earth  had  ever  tasted. 
At  the  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  he  thus  manifested  forth 
His  glory  as  the  Bridegroom  of  the  Church;  and  while  the 
governor  of  the  feast,  arrested  with  its  surpassing  excellence, 
exclaimed,  'Thou  hast  kept  the  good  wine  until  now,'  his  dis- 
ciples through  the  miracle  believed  on  the  Lord,  and  the  inward 
language  of  their  hearts  was,  'Thy  love  is  better  than  wine.' 
At  his  first  marriage  supper  on  earth,  the  Bridegroom  made 
the  wine  for  the  children  of  the  bridechamber;  at  his  last  sup- 
per he  opened  the  emblem,  by  explaining  that  the  true  vine 
is  Himself,  and  the  juice  of  its  grapes  his  own  most  precious 
blood;  that  love  cannot  go  beyond  laying  down  the  life,  and 
that  his  life-blood  is  the  good  wine  kept  until  now,  the  love 
better  than  wine. — How  sad  thy  case,  O  reader,  if  thy  highest 
joy  transcend  not  the  wine  of  earth ;  because  when  that  is  drunk 
with  all  its  poisoned  sweets,  then  'in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  there 
is  a  cup  full  of  mixture,  its  wine  red,  and  the  dregs  thereof 
shalt  thou  wring  out  and  drink  for  ever.' 

OINTMENT  POURED   FORTH  HIS  NAME. 

Because  of  the  savour  of  thy  good  ointments,  thy  name  is  as 
ointment  jpoured  forth,  therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee. — Jesus 
is  the  Lord's  anointed,  the  Messiah,  the  Christ,  all  whose  gar- 
ments smell  of  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia.  The  bride  when 
he  is  born  in  Bethlehem  brings  him  sweet  spices  from  a  far 
country,  and  presents  to  him  'gold,  and  frankincense,  and 
myrrh;'  so  that  of  the  lowly  child  Jesus  wrapped  in  swaddling 
clothes,  even  with  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia  all  the  g;u- 


Chap.  i.  3.  his  name.  101 

ments  are  fragrant.  In  the  course  of  his  ministry  while  the 
Bridegroom  is  v/ith  her,  the  bride  weeping  much  and  loving 
much,  because  much  has  been  forgiven  her,  breaks  her  alabas- 
ter box,  and  anoints  his  feet  with  precious  ointment.  When 
the  Bridegroom  is  about  to  be  taken  away,  the  Bride,  in  pre- 
paration for  the  day  of  his  burying,  takes  a  pound  of  ointment 
of  spikenard  very  costly,  and  anoints  the  feet  of  Jesus  till  the 
house  is  filled  with  the  odour  of  the  ointment;  while  the  traitor 
murmurs  alike  at  its  quantity  and  costliness.  After  his  death 
the  Bride,  bolder  than  during  his  life,  'brought  a  mixture  of 
myrrh  and  aloes  about  an  hundred  pound  weight,  and  took 
the  body  of  Jesus  and  wound  it  in  linen  clothes  with  the 
spices' — enough,  say  modern  murmurers,  to  have  embalmed 
many  bodies ;  but  not  enough,  said  the  Bride  of  Jesus,  for  the 
one  body  of  him  who  is  Chief  among  ten  thousand,  for  she 
still  'prepares  spices  and  ointments'  wherewith  to  embalm  him 
afresh  after  the  rest  of  the  Sabbath  is  over. 

All  those  acts  were  typical,  and  like  the  'savour  of  the  good 
ointments,  and  the  name  as  ointment  poured  forth,'  point  to 
Christ  not  as  anointed  by  men,  but  as  himself  the  box  of  purest 
alabaster  full  of  precious  perfume;  which  when  broken  fills 
with  its  fragrance  all  the  house  of  God,  wherein  is  congre- 
gated the  general  assembly  of  the  first-born.  The  savour  of 
the  good  ointments  includes  both  the  anointing  Spirit  and  the 
atoning  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Spirit  is  'given  not  by 
measure'  unto  him;  and  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  he 
preaches,  'The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me  to  proclaim 
tlie  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.'  Therefore  do  the  virgins 
love  him — chiefly  for  the  attractive  fragrance  of  the  anointing 
that  rests  and  abides  upon  himself;  yet  also  because  the  precious 
ointment  on  the  head  of  Aaron  'goes  down  to  the  skirt  of  his 
garments/  and  in  him  God  hath  anointed  us,  hath  given  us  an 
unction  from  the  Holy  One,  and  hath  called  us  '  Christians' 
even  as  he  is  'the  Christ'  (2  Cor.  i.  21).  But  further,  the  sa- 
vour of  the  ointments  is  the  fragrance  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ. 
The  first  mention  of  fragrance  in  the  word  of  God  is  the  sweet 
savour  of  bloody  sacrifice.  Each  of  the  other  senses  has  had 
its  notice;  the  voice  entering  the  ear,  the  pleasantness  attract- 


102  THE   ANOINTED   KING.  ChAP.  I.  3. 

ing  the  eye,  the  goodness  for  food  alluring  the  taste,  and  the 
'  touch  it  not  lest  ye  die/  have  all  had  their  record ;  but  there 
is  no  mention  of  fragrance  till  Noah  has  built  an  altar  and 
offered  burnt  offerings,  and  hence  ^the  Lord  smelled  a  sweet 
savour' — not  indeed  from  the  first  of  all  sacrifices,  but  from 
sacrifice  the  first  of  all  savours  unto  Jehovah.  Throughout 
the  old  economy,  fragrance  is  to  a  great  extent  appropriated  to 
the  same  object,  as  in  the  holy  incense  around  which  ran  the 
jealous  words  that  'whosoever  should  make  like  unto  that,  to 
smell  thereto,  should  even  be  cut  ofi"  from  his  people.'  In  like 
manner  in  the  new  dispensation  Christ  hath  loved  us,  and  hath 
given  himself  for  us  an  offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God  for  a 
sweet-smelling  savour  (Eph.  v.  2).  The  Anointed  One  in- 
deed he  is,  apart  from  his  sacrifice,  though  not  irrespective 
thereof,  for  'against  the  day  of  his  burying'  he  is  anointed 
with  the  Holy  Ghost;  but  without  the  sacrifice  his  name  had 
never  been  called  Ointment  poured  forth,  for  all  the  unction 
had  then  been  his  own,  and  not  ours.  But  when  he  'poureth 
out  his  soul  unto  death,'  the  ointment  compounded  of  every 
precious  ingredient  that  heaven  and  earth  could  supply,  of  all 
that  was  infinitely  fragrant  in  the  unseen  God,  and  exquisitely 
fragrant  in  the  work  of  his  hands,  is  poured  out  to  its  last  drop 
till  heaven  and  earth  are  filled  with  the  perfume.  Ointment 
poured  forth  is  his  name ;  and  sinners  of  whom  the  Lord  says 
that  we  have  been  as  'smoke  in  his  nostrils  all  the  day,'  need 
no  other  name  to  make  them  most  sweet  and  acceptable,  even 
a  sweet  savour  of  Christ  unto  God.  Therefore  thfe  very  name 
of  Jesus,  of  Christ,  of  Lord,  has  such  a  power  over  his  people, 
that  the  mere  utterance  of  it  fills  them  with  joy  and  peace, 
scattering  abroad  the  soul-reviving  perfume:  much  more  the 
full  preaching  of  the  everlasting  gospel,  which  is  the  declara- 
tion of  his  name,  fills  the  earth  with  the  knowledge  of  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea. 

I  love  the  name  of  Jesus, 

Immanuel,  Christ  the  Lord, 
Like  fragrance  on  the  breezes, 

His  name  abroad  is  poured. — Bonar. 

But  if  thou  hast  no  part  iu  his  anointing,  thy  soul  shall  be 


CIIAr.  I.  3.  HIS   NAME.  103 

gathered  with  sinners  and  thy  life  with  bloody  men;  thou 
shalt  sink  into  that  deep  pit  whither  is  flowing  down  contin- 
ually the  scum  of  all  the  universe,  all  that  is  noxious  and  offen- 
sive everywhere  gathered  into  that  seething  lake;  and  thence 
also  shall  ascend  the  smoke  of  thy  torment  for  ever  and  ever. 
Make  haste  to  ask,  'Let  ray  prayer  come  before  thee  as  incense, 
and  the  lifting  up  of  my  hands  as  the  evening  sacrifice !' 

Therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee. — By  the  apostle  John  these 
virgins  are  thus  described:  'Lo,  a  Lamb  stood  on  the  mount 
Zion,  and  with  him  an  hundred  and  forty  and  four  thousand, 
having  his  Father's  name  written  in  their  foreheads,  and  they 
sung  as  it  were  a  new  song  before  the  throne,  and  no  man 
could  learn  that  song  but  the  hundred  and  forty  and  four 
thousand  which  were  redeemed  from  the  earth  ;  these  are  they 
which  were  not  defiled  (along)  with  other  women,  for  they  are 
virgins;  these  are  they  which  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever 
he  goeth ;  these  Avere  redeemed  from  among  men,  being  the 
first-fruits  unto  God  and  the  Lamb'  (Rev.  xiv.)  They  bear 
such  characters  as  these — redeemed  from  among  men — taught 
of  God  that  song  which  no  earthly  man  can  learn  to  sing,  not 
unlike  this  Sons;  of  Sono-s  into  which  carnal  minds  can  never 
enter — willing  first-fruits  dedicated  to  God  and  the  Lamb — 
constant  followers  of  the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth,  as  a 
wife  never  forsaking  the  guide  of  her  youth.  They  form  an 
exceeding  great  multitude  '  which  no  man  can  number,'  yet 
each  is  'espoused  as  a  chaste  virgin  to  Christ.'  Among  those 
that  seem  to  be  virgins  on  earth  five  are  wise  and  five  are 
foolish ;  but  these  are  virgins  in  the  eye  of  the  Lamb,  for  of 
them  all  the  characteristic  is,  that  '  they  love  thee.'  David 
was  one  of  them,  and  he  sung, '  I  love  the  Lord  ?'  Peter  was  one, 
and  he  wrote  of  himself  and  of  them  all,  'Whom  having  not 
seen  ye  love ;'  John  was  one,  and  he  testified, '  We  love  him  be- 
cause he  first  loved  us ;'  Paul  was  one,  and  he  imprecated,  '  If 
any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema 
Maran-atha.'  The  virgins  love  thee;  all  the  virgins  love  thee. 
'Son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  Me?' — Son  of  Adam,  lovest  thou 
Him? 


104  THE  ANOINTED   KING.  CHAP.  I.  4. 


THE  CHAMBERS  OF  THE  KING. 

Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee.  The  King  hath  brought  me  into  his 
chambers;  we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  thee,  we  will  remember  thy 
love  more  than  wine :  the  upright  love  thee. — Chap.  i.  4. 

The  King,  withdrawing  into  the  glorious  chambers  of  his 
majesty  and  grace,  has  left  without,  the  soul  that  seeketh  him; 
in  approaching  him  the  soul  seems  to  itself  to  have  lost  rather 
than  gained,  but  therefore  stirs  itself  all  the  more  to  prayer, 
resolution,  hope;  and  from  remembrance  describes  the  cham- 
bers of  the  King  into  which  it  ardently  desires  now  to  be  ad- 
mitted. 

Draw  me,  loe  will  run  after  thee. — 'Draw  me'  in  the  fourth 
verse  is  expressive  of  the  same  desire  as  'Let  him  kiss  me'  in 
the  second,  but  is  at  once  more  earnest  and  more  distant;  ex- 
actly as  'tell  me'  in  the  seventh  verse  is  again  both  more 
earnest  and  more  distant,  than  'draw  me'  in  the  fourth.  'Let 
him  kiss  me,'  he  has  just  left  and  is  not  far  off,  let  him  come 
to  me;  but  he  comes  not,  he  kisses  not,  and  therefore  the  soul 
rises  to  follow  and  to  find  him,  or  rather  to  follow  and  over- 
take, for  he  is  not  lost  and  is  not  far  before.  But  when  the 
spirit  girds  itself  for  such  an  exercise,  presently  it  feels  its 
helplessness.  'Let  him  come  to  me'  if  he  will,  and  when  lie 
willeth  he  can  come ;  but  since  he  cometh  not,  I  cannot  go  to 
him  'except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  him  draw  me,'  or  he 
draw  me  himself  for  he  is  one  with  the  Father.  Draw  me,  thou 
whose  name  is  ointment  poured  forth ;  draw  me,  for  I  would 
come  but  I  am  weak;  I  would  come  to  thee,  but  a  thousand 
cords  draw  me  from  thee;  sin  draws,  the  flesh  draws,  Satan 
draws,  the  world  draws,  the  fair  earth  itself,  with  its  things 
seen  and  temporal,  draws  me  from  things  unseen  and  eternal. 
Lord,  draw  me  with  cords  of  a  man,  with  bands  of  love  sweetly 
alluring  me  to  thyself;  draw  me  with  cords  so  strong  that  they 
will  not  break  in  the  strain,  cords  stronger  than  death  and 
hell ;  draw  me  with  cords  so  fast,  that  the  oily  subtlety  of  sin 
within  me  shall  never  wind  my  soul  out  of  their  bonds.  Draw 
me,  thou  mighty  One ;  with  power  irresistible,  irresistible  by 


CHAP.  I.  4.  HIS   CHAMBERS.  105 

nie,  irresistible  by  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  draw  rac  to  thy- 
self. 

But  like  a  block  bencatli  u-ho.se  burthen  lies 
That  undiscovered  worm  that  never  dies, 
I  have  no  will  to  rouse,  I  have  no  j^ower  to  rise, — 
For  can  the  water-buried  axe  implore 
A  hand  to  raise  it,  or  itself  restore. 
And  from  her  sandy  deeps  approach  the  dry-foot  shore? 

So  hard's  the  task  for  sinful  flesh  and  blood, 
To  lend  the  smallest  help  to  what  is  good; 

My  God,  I  cannot  move  the  least  degree. 

Ah!  if  but  only  those  who  active  be, 
None  should  thy  gloiy  see,  thy  glory  none  should  see. 
Lord,  as  I  am,  I  have  no  power  at  all 
To  hear  thy  voice,  or  echo  to  thy  call. 

Give  me  the  power  to  will,  the  will  to  do ; 
O  raise  me  up,  and  I  will  strive  to  go: 

Draw  me,  O  draw  me  with  thy  treble-twist ; 

That  have  no  power,  but  merely  to  resist; 
0  lend  me  strength  to  do,  and  then  command  thy  list, 

Quarles. 

We  will  run  after  thee. — For  the  desire  to  be  drawn  is  not 
in  indolence,  but  in  helplessness.  Those  words  in  the  lips  of 
many  are  only  the  creaking  of  the  door  upon  its  hinges;  the 
prayer  of  the  slothful  not  really  desiring  to  run.  But  in  the 
true  Bride  of  Christ,  combined  with  the  cry  for  help  there  is 
the  attitude  of  earnestness  and  energy.  'We  will  run  after 
thee;'  being  drawn  and  enabled,  we  will  hasten  toward  thee 
meeting  us,  we  will  follow  after  thee  departing  from  us.  My 
soul  followeth  thee  hard,  and  thy  right  hand  upholdeth  me  • 
thy  hand  upholdeth  me  that  I  may  run,  and  I  run  after  thee 
that  I  may  be  upheld  by  thy  hand.  Being  so  drawn  and  so 
supported,  the  feet  are  made  swift  as  the  hind's,  followino-  the 
Lord  and  overtaking  him,  then  running  along  with  him  in 
the  way  of  his  commandments.  Draw  me,  for  the  Church  is 
one,  and  he  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself  for  it  •  and 
we  will  run,  for  the  Church  consists  of  many,  even  of  all  whom 
the  Father  hath  given  to  the  Son.  It  is  a  lowly  individuality, 
every  one  recognising  his  own  special  helplessness ;  it  is  a 
noble  union,  all  agreeing  in  one  divine  resolution.     Jesus 


lOo  TUE   AN0I5JTED    KING.  CHAP.  I.  4. 

'lifted  up  draws  all  men  unto  him ;'  all  the  given  ones  are  drawn, 
all  the  drawn  ones  come,  all  the  comers  run,  all  the  runners 
desire  that  every  man  on  earth  should  enter  the  race,  all  the 
racers  that  throng  the  course  hinder  not  but  help  the  progress 
of  each,  and  every  winner  of  the  prize  of  eternal  life  cheers 
on  all  that  follow,  till  their  heads  also  are  encircled  with  the 
crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away.  'Lift  up  then  thy  hands 
that  hang  down,  and  strengthen  thy  feeble  knees,'  fainting  soul 
and  lame ;  arise  and  ^run  the  race  set  before  thee  looking  unto 
Jesus;'  and  'thou  slialt  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles,  thou 
shalt  run  and  be  not  weary,  shalt  walk  and  not  faint.' 

The  king  hath  brought  mc. — The  king  is  the  same  spoken  of 
in  the  second  Psalm  as  'the  Son  whom  we  are  to  kiss,  the 
Lord's  anomted,  the  king  whom  he  hath  set  upon  his  holy  hill 
of  Zion  ;'  and  in  the  forty-fifth,  in  'the  things  made  by  David 
touching  the  king;' and  everywhere  throughout  the  Psalms 
and  the  Prophets.  The  Jcavs  acknowledge  that  the  king  in 
those  Psalms  and  throughout  this  Song  is  Messiah.  In  the 
Kew  Testament  he  is  king  of  kings  and  king  of  saints ;  and 
asserting  his  own  sovereignty  he  saith,  'Ye  call  me  Lord  and 
Master  and  ye  say  well  for  so  I  am ;  and  ye  are  my  friends  if 
ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you.'  He  is  never  prophet,  priest, 
redeemer,  husband,  except  he  is  also  king ;  king  over  our- 
selves, our  bodies  presented  to  him  a  living  sacrifice;  king 
over  our  substance,  for  to  him  shall  be  given  of  the  gold  of 
Sheba;  king  over  our  lips,  for  we  shall  give  account  unto  him 
of  every  idle  word  in  the  day  of  judgment;  and  king  over  our 
hearts,  bringing  every  thought  into  subjection  unto  Christ. 
He  is  the  king  that  hath  conquered  us,  whose  arrows  were 
sharp  in  our  hostile  hearts,  Avho  also  made  us  willing  in  the 
day  of  his  power;  but  he  is  the  king,  likewise,  who  hath  con- 
quered for  us,  triumphing  over  sin,  over  Satan,  over  death, 
over  hell.  This  King,  saith  the  bride,  hath  brought  me  into 
his  chambers.  To  her  it  had  been  foretold,  or  rather  promised, 
that  'she  should  be  brought  unto  the  king'  (Ps.  X'lv.);  and 
gratefully  she  owns  the  fulfilment  in  part  of  the  sure  word  of 
(xod.  Nay  more,  the  King  himself  had  brought  her;  for  He 
it  is  who  brings  all,  as  Avell  as  to  whom  all  are  brought,  lay- 


CHAP.  I.  4.  HIS   CHAMBEE3.  107 

ing  onbicoself  a  blessed  necessity  and  saying  'tliemalso  must 
1  bring.'  In  the  lips  of  the  believer  it  is  a  powerful  plea, 
that  he  has  not  rushed  either  unbidden  or  unaided  into  the 
king's  presence,  but  that  the  king  himself  has  both  called  and 
brought  forward  his  guests.  A  mighty  argument  it  is,  and 
as  such  is  here  employed,  for  being  drawn  anew,  received  again, 
and  admitted  into  yet  inner  chambers  of  royalty. 

Understood  of  the  Church  collective,  the  reference  applies 
to  the  recorded  manifestations  of  the  divine  glory  in  earlier 
ages.  The  bride  in  the  time  of  Solomon  remembers  the  day 
when  the  migratory  temple  was  reared  in  the  desert,  and  the 
cloud  covered  the  tent  of  the  congregation,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  filled  the  tabernacle;  and  prays  for  a  similar,  yet 
greater  blessing  on  the  temple  of  Solomon.  The  bride  in  the 
days  of  Simeon  remembers  the  dedication  of  Solomon's  temple, 
when  Jehovah  owned  its  courts  as  '  the  chambers  of  the  king;' 
so  that  the  priests  could  not  stand  to  minister,  because  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  had  filled  the  house  of  God;  and  desires 
that  the  glory  of  the  latter  house  may  be  greater  than  of  the 
former,  by  the  manifestation  within  it  of  Iramanuel  God  with  ■« 
us.  The  Bride  in  our  own  day  recalls  the  Pentecostal  rushing 
of  the  mighty  wind  from  heaven  that  filled  the  house,  when 
the  upper  room  formed  the  chambers  of  the  great  King;  and 
prays  that  the  glory  of  the  Lord  may  fill  the  earth  as  the 
waters  cover  the  sea,  and  that  the  Lord  may  hasten  the  great 
day  of  his  appearing. 

Into  his  chambers  he  hath  brought  me — which  chambers  the 
man  after  God's  own  heart  calls  'the  secret  of  his  presence,  his 
pavilion,  and  the  secret  of  his  tabernacle.'  It  is  the  sanctuary 
of  Jehovah,  the  secret  place  where  the  stranger  intermeddleth 
not,  where  the  noise  of  tongues  intrudeth  not, — '  the  place  by 
him'  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  where  he  covers  with  his  hand 
and  communes  with  his  chosen.  It  is  the  same  of  which  Jesus 
said,  'Knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you,'  and  concerning 
which  it  had  been  promised,  '  They  shall  enter  into  the  king's 
palace.'  What  awe,  what  trembling,  what  joy,  what  peace 
and  holiness  are  there!  What  desire  to  enter,  what  gratitude 
for  admission^  what  admiration  of  the  divine  beauty,  what 


108  THE   ANOINTED   KIXG.  CHAP.  I.  4. 

gladness  \Yltliin  the  holy  place;  yet  Avhat  shrinking,  yea  almost 
withdrawing — 'woe  is  me  for  I  am  of  unclean  lips,  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  the  King  the  Lord  of  hosts.'  But  because  they 
are  the  king's  chambers,  they  are  also  ours,  for  'my  Beloved 
is  mine  and  I  am  his;'  and  while  the  Bride  calls  them  his 
chambers  he  calls  them  hers,  saying  'Come  my  people,  enter 
thou  into  thy  chambers  and  shut  thy  doors  about  thee.'  It 
has  much  to  do  with  'entering  into  thy  closet  and  shutting  to 
thy  door  and  praying  to  thy  Father  in  secret;'  yet  it  is  not 
the  closet  of  the  house  but  of  the  heart,  or  rather  of  the  heart 
of  thy  Lord,  where  'thy  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God.'  It  is 
the  inmost  sanctuary  of  Jehovah,  chambers  not  one  but  several; 
the  soul  led  into  chamber  after  chamber,  one  chamber  within 
another,  and  still  one  further  within;  the  outer  court  with  its 
altar  of  burnt-offering,  the  holy  place  with  its  golden  altar  of 
incense,  the  holiest  of  all  with  the  cloud  of  divine  glory  between 
the  cherubim.  Brought  by  the  king,  yet  knocking  at  each 
successive  door;  the  king  himself  opening,  admitting  the  soul 
within,  and  leading  it  onward  and  inward  till  the  whole  spirit 
isays,  'How  fearful  is  this  place,  this  is  none  other  than  the 
house  of  God,  and  the  gate  of  heaven.' 

We  will  he  glad  and  rejoiee  in  thee,  loe  will  remember  tlvj  love 
more  than  wine. — The  Bride  of  the  Lamb  is  full  both  of  grati- 
tude and  hope;  present  fellowship  alone  she  wants.  Yet  she 
has  not  lost  it  by  negligence;  the  king  is  withdrawn,  and  she 
scarcely  knows  that  he  is  gone.  She  first  asks  some  renewed 
token  of  his  love;  then  she  refreshes  herself  with  the  holy 
fragrance  which  his  presence  had  diffused  and  left;  then  she 
asks  to  be  drawn,  and  girds  herself  to  run  to  overtake  him; 
then  she  considers,  and  makes  herself  certain  that  He  had 
vouchsafed  his  fellowship ;  then  she  comforts  herself  with  the 
assured  hope  of  its  renewal,  'We  v/ill  be  glad  and  rejoice  in 
thee,'  and  with  fixing  fast  in  her  memory  all  the  grace  and  truth 
that  she  had  tasted,  'We  will  remember  thy  lova  more  than 
wine.'  More  than  royal  banquets  wo  will  remember  thy  love; 
yea  more  than  the  sacramental  wine  itself  and  all  the  accom- 
paniments of  the  feast  at  which  that  love  was  revealed.  The 
sixty-third  Pslam  describes  a  similar  spiritual  condition,  not 


CHAP.  I.  4. 


HIS   CHAMBERS. 


109 


of  present  satisfying  communion  with  God,  but  of  earnest 
longing  after  it,  and  with  such  remembrance  of  past,  and  such 
hope  of  future,  as  almost  or  altogether  forms  present  fellowship. 
Let  us  compare  the  Psalm  of  David  with  the  Song  of  Solomon: — 


Let  him  kiss  me  with  the  kisses  of 
his  mouth.    (Chap.  i.  2. 

For  thy  love  is  better  than  wine. 
(2.) 

Because  of  the  savour  of  thy  good 
ointments,  thy  name  is  as  oint- 
ment poured  forth.    (3.) 

Therefore  do  the  virgins  love  thee. 
(3.) 

The  upright  love  thee.    (4.) 


Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee. 

(4.) 
The  king  hath  brought  me  into 

his  chambers.    (4.) 

"We  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in 

thee.    (4.) 
We  will  remember  thy  love  more 

than  wine.    (4.) 

Tell  me,  O  thou  whom  my  soul 
loveth,  where  thou  makest  thy 
flock  to  rest  at  noon.    (7.) 


My  soul  thirsteth — my  flesh  longcth 
to  see  thy  glory.    Ps.  Ixiii.  (1,  2.) 

Because  thy  loving-kindness  is  better 
than  life.    (3.) 

My  soul  shall  be  satisfied  as  with 
marrow  and  fatuees,  and  my  mouth 
shall  praise  thee.    (5.) 

O  God,  thou  art  my  God,  early  will 
I  seek  thee;  every  one  that 
sweai-cth  by  him  shall  glory,  but 
the  mouth  of  them  Ihat  speak 
lies  shall  be  stopped.    (1,  11.) 

My  soul  followeth  hard  after  thee; 
thy  right  hand  upholdeth  me.   (8.) 

So  as  I  have  seen  thee  in  the  sanc- 
tuary ;  because  thou  hast  been 
my  help.    (2,7.) 

Therefore  in  the  shadow  of  thy 
wings  will  I  rejoice.    (7.) 

My  mouth  shall  praise  thee  with 
joyful  lips,  when  I  remember 
thee  upon  my  bed.    (5,  6.) 

0  God,  thou  art  my  God,  my  soul 
thirsteth  for  thee,  my  flesh  longeth 
for  thee  in  a  dry  land.    (1.) 


The  upright  love  thee. — The  upright  men  of  the  fourth  verse 
and  the  virgins  of  the  third  are  the  same;  for  the  distinction 
of  both  is  that  they  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  virginity 
of  soul  and  uprightness  of  heart  are  one.  Nathanael  is  of  their 
number,  and  of  him  Jesus  witnesses,  'Behold  an  Israelite  in- 
deed in  wdiom  is  no  guile' — not  in  whom  no  guilt,  but  in 
whom  no  guil^;  and  David  had  already  sung,  'Blessed  is  the 
man  whose  sin  is  forgiven,  and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no 
guile.'  The  natural  deceit  and  self-covering,  that  are  in  and 
over  all  men,  have  been  removed  by  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  he 
has  become  honest  and  upright  so  as  to  confess  sin,  to  condemn 
himself,  to  justify  God.     Every  such  man  admires  and  loves 


110  THE   AXOINTED   KING.  CHAP.  I.  4. 

the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  like  Simeon  just  and  devout  waiting 
for  the  consolation  of  Israel ;  he  loves  him  both  as  the  living 
righteous  One,  and  as  the  just  One  dying  for  the  unjust.  But 
as,  through  grace  inworking,  there  is  now  no  guile,  so  also, 
through  grace  forgiving,  there  is  now  no  guilt ;  the  upright  is 
also  the  justified  and  righteous.  The  mark  of  all  such  men 
is  that  they  own  Jesus,  come  to  Jesus,  believe  in  Jesus,  love 
Jesus,  follow  Jesus.  'Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth 
my  voice.'  He  is  the  great  test  and  trial  of  the  sons  of  men, 
set  for  the  rising  and  falling  of  many ;  the  foundation-stone  of 
their  building,  or  their  stone  of  stumbling  and  rock  of  offence. 
How  many  who  are  proud  of  their  righteousness  will  be  con- 
founded with  sore  amazement  in  the  great  day,  when  all  the 
redeemed  shall  testify  to  Jesus,  'The  upright  love  thee;'  but 
to  themselves  in  awful  contrast  Jesus  will  announce,  'Depart 
from  me,  I  never  knew  you,  all  ye  workers  of  Iniquity.' 


CHAP.  I.  5,  6.  THE  TENTS  OF  KEDA.E.  Ill 


11. 

THE  BRIDE'S  PORTRAIT  OF  HERSELF. 

THE  TENTS  OF  KEDAE,  AND  CURTAINS  OF  SOLOMON— 
THE  SUNBURNT  SLAVE-GIRL. 

I  am  black,  but  comely,  O  ye  daugliters  of  Jerusalem,  as  the  tents  of 
Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon.  Look  not  upon  me,  because  I  am 
black,  because  the  sun  hath  looked  upon  me.  My  mother's  children 
were  angry  with  me;  they  made  me  the  keeper  of  the  vineyards;  but 
mine  own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept. — Chap.  i.  5,  6. 

THE   TENTS   OF   KEDAE,  AND   THE   CURTAINS   OF   SOLOMON. 

O  yc  daughters  of  Jcrusalcvi. — But  who  is  this  that  claims 
the  rank  of  Bride  to  the  King  of  kings;  that  asserts  that  she 
has  been  led  by  himself  into  his  pavilion  and  entreats  to  be 
admitted  again?  Slje  looks  unbecoming  so  high  a  station, 
unworthy  of  so  great  a  privilege.  The  unfitness  is  felt  by  her- 
self, and  knowing  that  it  is  too  manifest  to  others,  she  ad- 
dresses them  to  obviate  the  objection,  'O  ye  daughters  of  Jeru- 
salem.' The  parties  whom  she  thus  accosts  are  not  the  vir- 
gins, for  these  are  one  with  herself— draw  me,  we  will  run; 
nor  are  they  foes,  for  she  speaks  to  them  of  her  mother's 
children  who  had  become  her  enemies;  nor  are  they  captious 
onlookers,  for  while  strictly  charged  not  to  disturb  the  rest  of 
the  Beloved  they  are  not  driven  away  as  intruders  (ii.  7). 
The  riches  of  divine  grace  arc  ready  for  them  in  the  gospel 
(iii.  10) ;  and  they  are  invited  to  behold  king  Solomon  with  his 
nuptial  crown  (iii.  11).  Their  subsequent  history  is  intensely 
interesting.  The  Bride's  Beloved  is  confessedly  not  their  Be- 
loved, yet  are  some  of  them  so  near  to  Christ  that  she  counts 
it  possible  for  them  to  find  him  even  before  he  is  recovered 
by  herself  (v.  8) ;  they"liext  express  their  desire  to  seek  him 
along  with  her  (vi.  1);  when  he  has  been  found  by  her  but 
not  by  them  they  most  earnestly  contemplate  the  Bride  (vi. 


112  THE  bride's  portrait  OF  HERSELF.      CHAP.  I.  Q. 

13),  and  describe  her  from  head  to  foot,  or  rather  from  foot  to 
head,  for  Avhat  first  attracts  them  is  her  'feet  beautiful  with 
shoes,'  publishing  peace  to  Jerusalem  (vii.  1);  then  advancing 
further  they  speak,  though  not  to  the  King,  yet  of  him,  as  held 
in  the  galleries  (vii.  5) ;  another  step  leads  them,  or  some  at 
least  of  their  number,  one  by  one  to  ascend  the  palm-tree  with 
its  clusters  of  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises,  and  to 
pluck  its  treasures  for  themselves  (vii.  8) ;  and,  lastly,  they  ex- 
change the  title  of '  thy  Beloved'  for  'my  Beloved,'  and  become 
one  with  the  bride  of  the  Lamb  (vii.  9) — not  all  of  them  how- 
ever, for  there  still  remain  those  who  are  called  the  daughters 
of  Jerusalem.  Their  character  thus  traced  is  fitly  represented 
by  that  company  of  sorrowing  women  whom  our  Lord  on  his 
way  to  Calvary  addressed  as  the  'daughters  of  Jerusalem,' 
comprehending  souls  in  various  present  conditions,  and  sub- 
jects of  vastly  different  eternal  results.  Enemies  they  were 
not,  for  they  were  wailing  loudly  for  his  sufferings;  tried 
friends  they  cannot  on  this  account  be  reckoned,  for  the  ex- 
pression of  their  sympathy  exposed  them  to  no  peril.  Christ 
does  not  own  them  as  disciples,  because  he  bids  them  weep  for 
themselves  and  their  children;  but  he  does  not  leave  them 
alone  as  if  hardened,  and  it  is  probable  that  many  of  them 
afterwards  asked,  'What  shall  we  do?'  and  'gladly  receiving  the 
word  were  baptized  in  the  name  of  Jesus.'  If  thou  art  num- 
bered among  those  inquiring  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  thy  con- 
dition is  full  of  hope,  because  the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  its 
free  righteousness  and  its  saving  power  is  nigh  thee,  is  offered 
thee,  is  given  thee  if  thou  wilt  have  it;  but  it  is  also  full  of 
danger,  because  thousands  like  thee  are  daily  'perishing  from 
the  way.'  '  Then  shalt  thou  know  if  thou  follow  on  to  know 
the  Lord;'  but  if  thou  tarry  in  the  plain  thou  wilt  be  tempted 
to  look  behind  thee,  then  haply  to  turn  again  to  thy  people 
and  to  thy  gods,  and  finally  to  have  thy  portion  with  them 
that  draw  back  unto  perdition. 

lam  black. — Blackness  of  visage  is  in  Scripture  a  frequent 
image  of  afSiction — 'For  the  hurt  of  the  daughter  of  my  peo- 
ple I  am  black,  astonishment  hath  taken  hold  on  me.'  It  is 
enough  for  thee,  disciple,  to  be  as  thy  master,  and  if  in  the 


CHAP.  I.  5.  THE   TENTS   OF   KEDAR.  113 

man  of  sorrows  'his  visage  was  so  marred  more  than  any  man's, 
and  his  countenance  more  than  the  sons  of  men/  thy  coun- 
tenance likewise  will  oft  be  clouded  by  affliction,  necessities, 
distresses,  infirmities,  reproaches.  Yet  never  art  thou  more 
comely  than  when  for  thy  master's  sake  thy  mother's  children 
are  angry  with  thee,  and  being  driven  forth  from  among  them 
the  sun  scorcheth  thee,  for  then  most  of  all  resteth  on  thee 
'the  spirit  of  glory  and  of  God.' 

But  it  is  a  still  more  lively  emblem  of  the  defiling  and  de- 
forming power  of  iniquity,  'though  ye  have  lien  among  the 
pots,  yet  shall  ye  be  as  the  Avings  of  a  dove  covered  with  sil- 
ver' (Ps.  Ixviii.  13).  The  face  and  raiment  blackened  with 
smoke  and  soot  are  here  emblematic  of  sin,  for  the  same  per- 
sons are  depicted  as  rebels, — 'Thou  hast  received  gifts  for  men, 
yea  for  the  rebellious  also'  (18).  In  the  image  of  God  made 
he  man,  very  good,  and  very  fair — 'a  JSTazarite  whiter  than 
snow;'  but  by  transgression  the  'visage  has  become  blacker 
than  a  coal,'  so  that  he  could  not  now  bo  recognised.  The 
dark-staining  effect  of  sin  on  the  soul  is  set  forth  in  Jeremiah 
by  the  very  same  figure,  as  liere  in  the  Song,  when  he  m.akes 
the  inquiry,  'Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin?'  and  returns 
the  reply,  '  Then  may  ye  also  that  are  accustomed  to  do  evil, 
learn  to  do  well.' 

It  is  now  universally  admitted  that  the  darkness  is  illus- 
trated by  the  tents  of  Kedar  (the  word  Kedar  itself  denoting 
what  is  dark),  and  the  comeliness  by  the  curtains  of  Solomon. 
But  this  was  at  one  time  overlooked  by  the  best  interpreters, 
and  they  have  consequently  given  most  attractive  and  beauti- 
ful descriptions  of  the  interior  of  the  tent  of  the  Arab  chief, 
as  contrasted  with  the  black  skins  that  cover  it  externally. 
This  oversight  is  the  more  remarkable  as  the  interpretation 
now  received  is  brought  out  by  Origen  as  clearly  as  by  any  of 
his  modern  successors.  Black  as  the  tents  of  Kedar  denotes  the 
deepest  blackness  as  of  the  Ethiopian's  skin,  whether  we  take 
it  of  the  dark  felt  with  which  sometimes,  or  rather  of  the  dark 
goatskins  with  which  more  frequently,  the  tent  of  the  wild 
Arab  is  described  as  covered.  The  inmate  of  that  tent  was 
also  black  like  its  covering;  and  the  contrast  most  marked 


114  THE  bride's  PORTEAIT  OF  HERSELF.     CHAP.  I.  5. 

between  liim  and  the  Nazarite  wliiter  than  snow,  who  minis- 
tered in  the  holy  place  before  the  curtains  of  Solomon.  A  wild 
wanderer  likewise  he  was,  an  Ishmaelite,  the  child  of  Hagar, 
the  son  of  the  bondwoman — a  lively  image  of  the  unsubdued 
rebel,  who  promises  himself  liberty  and  is  the  servant  of  cor- 
ruption. 'Woe  is  me,'  said  one  of  the  virgins  that  love  the  Lord 
Jesus,  'that  I  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Kcdar!'  Of  old  he  had 
lodged  there  when  'his  moisture  was  turned  into  the  drought 
of  summer,'  but  it  was  all  the  more  sad  to  return  thither  again 
for  his  habitation.  'O  wretched  man  that  I  am,'  is  the  voice  of 
another  from  those  tents  of  Ivedar,  'who  shall  deliver  me?' 
The  Bride  of  Christ  had  been  a  child  of  the  bondwoman,  and 
as  black  as  the  Arab's  tent  had  her  skin  become.  No  beauty, 
no  comeliness,  no  fairness,  no  loveliness  was  in  her ;  and  she 
owns  that  she  still  retains  the  odious  brand.  It  is  not  all 
that  marks  her  now,  but  sin  deforms  her  still;  and  she  con- 
fesses, not  I  ivashlack,  but  'I  am  black,  O  daughters  of  Jeru- 
salem.' 

It  is  the  soul's  turning-point  between  death  and  life,  when 
first  brought  to  this  confession — 'I  am  black.'  Nature  ac- 
knowledges both  spot  and  defect,  for  these  it  cannot  disown, 
and  even  its  dull  eye  sees  them.  But  the  whole  person  de- 
formed and  disfigured,  the  whole  visage  marred,  it  will  not 
confess.  I  am  not  black,  is  the  plea  of  nature ;  I  have  walked 
through  the  muddy  paths  of  sin  and  bespattered  yiy  raiment, 
or  even,  I  have  stumbled  into  the  ditch  and  bemirecl  myself  all 
over ;  but  I  shall  wash  the  defilement  away,  and  walk  heed- 
fully  the  rest  of  my  course.  But  the  Almighty  Spirit  alone 
can  drive  in  the  conviction  and  draw  forth  the  confession,  I 
have  done  evil  and  cannot  cease  from  sin,  I  have  done  evil 
and  cannot  learn  to  do  well,  I  have  done  evil  and  cannot  efface 
one  stain — for  mine  is  the  Ethiopian's  skin — I  am  black  with 
no  contrasted  comeliness.  How  humbling,  how  saddening, 
yet  how^  hopeful,  yea  how  relieving,  when  the  uneasy  spirit 
ceases  the  vain  strife  to  bring  a  clean  thing  out  of  an  unclean — 
the  endless  effort  to  wash  the  Ethiopian  white — and  owns  I 
am  black !  A  sad  and  lowly  rest  it  is,  yet  a  rest  from  labor- 
ing in  the  fire.     So  is  it  likewise  with  the  believer  daily ;  '  I  am 


CHAP.  I.  5.  THE   CURTAINS   OF   SOLOMON.  115 

black' — would  save  liiin  a  Avorld  of  inward  labor,  and  hours  of 
cheerless  distance  from  his  God. 

But  comely — as  the  curtains  of  Solomon. — In  her  own  outcast 
condition  the  Bride  of  Christ  is  black  like  the  tents  of  Kedar 
in  the  wilderness.  But  through  grace  she  is  comely  like  the 
curtains  of  fine  twined  linen,  which  adorned  the  tent  of  the 
Prince  of  peace  when  he  also  journeyed  through  the  desert 
with  his  people;  and  like  the  veil  of  fine  linen  which  alike  in 
the  tabernacle  and  the  temple  enclosed  the  holiest  of  all,  being 
seen  by  God  from  within,  and  by  man  from  without.  ^Thy 
beauty  Avas  perfect  through  my  comeliness  put  upon  thee.'  To 
nature  it  seems  excessive  humiliation  to  confess,  'I  am  black;' 
to  nature  it  equally  seems  excessive  presumption  to  declare, 
'  I  am  comely.'  Neither  black  nor  comely,  is  her  confession ; 
not  altogether  black,  not  altogether  comely.  Both  black  and 
comely  is  the  language  of  the  Bride;  altogether  black  in  my- 
self, altogether  comely  in  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Christ  of  God  '  is  made  unto  her  wisdom,  righteousness,  sancti- 
fica.tiou  and  redemption;'  and  being  accepted  in  the  Beloved, 
and  found  in  him,  she  confesses,  I  am  comely.  She  denies  not 
but  confesses,  I  am  comely  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon.  No 
self-exaltation  is  it,  nor  boasting  in  aught  of  her  own;  but 
'glorying  only  in  the  Lord, — to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his 
grace  wherein  he  hath  made  her  accepted  in  the  Beloved.' 
Black  like  Kedar's  tents  without  any  beauty  in  herself,  comely 
like  Solomon's  curtains  without  any  flaw  in  Christ  Jesus ;  ever 
learning  each  of  these  more  and  more,  ever  becoming  more 
vile  in  herself  and  in  her  own  eyes,  ever  becoming  more  comelv 
in  Christ  Jesus ;  that  is,  growing  daily  in  the  conscious  need 
of  his  comeliness,  depending  more  entirely  on  it,  accepting 
more  cordially  of  it,  and  rejoicing  more  triumphantly  in  it. 

THE  SUNBURNT  SLAVE-GIRL. 

Before  entering  on  a  more  detailed  account  of  her  history, 
the  Bride  thus  deprecates  the  searching  examination  of  Jeru- 
salem's daughters: 

Look  not  upon  me,  because  I  am  black, — Fix  not  your  eyes 

H 


116  THE  bride's  portrait  OF  HERSELF.     CHAP.  I.  6. 

on  me,  examine  me  not,  for  I  cannot  stand  it.  You  look  for 
spots,  I  own  them  all,  and  am  blacker  than  you  account  me; 
yet  for  my  Redeemer's  sake  ov^erlook  not  his  comeliness,  where- 
with he  hath  invested  me.  'My  sins  have  taken  such  hold  on 
me  that  I  am  unable  to  look  up;'  look  not  upon  me,  daughters 
of  Jerusalem,  look  not  upon  mc,  Lord  of  all,  but  'hide  thy  fice 
from  my  sins.'  The  soul  convinced  of  its  own  guilt  cannot 
bear  to  be  looked  on  by  God's  eye  above,  cannot  bear  to  be 
looked  on  by  human  eyes  around,  cannot  bear  to  be  looked  on 
by  its  own  eye  within.  It  feels  as  if  its  exceeding  sinfulness 
were  evident  to  the  whole  universe,  written  and  seen  on  the 
very  countenance.  • 

Look  not  on  me,  she  cries,  for  I  am  black ; 
Beams  from  above  with  i:)enetratiug  force. 
Revealed  my  dark  condition  to  myself ; 
The  true  light  shone,  and  showed  me  all  my  guilt. 

Met.  Meditations. 

Because  the  sun  hath  looked  uj)on  me:  my  mother's  children 
were  angry  with  me;  they  made  me  heepcr  of  the  vineyards;  but 
mine  own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept. — This  parable  bears  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  the  parable  of  the  penitent  prodigal,  with 
this  distinction,  that  the  images  in  the  one  are  adapted  to  a 
son,  in  the  other  to  a  bride.  In  the  one,  it  is  the  younger  of 
two  sons  whom  the  father  had;  in  the  other,  it  is  Hhe  daughter 
of  Zion  likened  to  a  comely  and  delicate  woman,'  the  virgin 
daughter  of  the  great  King.  Both  were  once  in  a  father's 
house,  enough  and  to  spare  they  both  enjoyed,  servile  labor 
neither  of  them  knew,  and  a  father's  kind  and  watchful  eye 
preserved  them  both  from  temptation,  from  sufiering,  and  from 
all  the  evils  that  wasted  without.  The  son  renounces  a  daily 
dependence  on  a  father's  bounty,  and  departs  from  his  father's 
house;  the  daughter  wearies  of  constant  watching,  and  goes 
forth  into  the  world  to  see  the  daughters  of  the  land.  To  him, 
the  speedy  consequence  is  that  all  his  abundance  in  which  he 
gloried  is  exchanged  for  penury,  and  he  is  starving ;  and  to 
her,  that  all  her  comeliness  in  which  she  trusted  withers  un- 
der the  sun's  scorching  rays,  she  has  burning  instead  of  beauty, 
and  for  snowy  whiteness  the  skin  of  Ethiopia.     In  each  case 


CIIAP.  I.  6.  THE   SUNBUPvNT   SLAYE-GIKL.  117 

the  evil  is  aggravated  by  the  treatment  received  from  others. 
The  son  is  despised  and  ill  used  by  the  man  to  whom  he  joins 
himself  in  friendship,  and  is  sent  into  his  fields  to  feed  his 
swine.  The  daughter  is  hardly  dealt  with  by  her  mother's 
children,  is  treated  by  them  not  as  a  sister  but  a.  slave,  and  is 
set  to  the  degrading  and  servile  employment  of  keeping  their 
vineyards,  and  driving  thence  the  foxes  that  spoil  their  vines. 
The  son,  while  giving  food  to  the  grovelling  herd  is  himself 
famished  more  and  more,  for  the  husks  which  they  devour  are 
neither  meat  for  him  nor  his  to  eat,  and  he  is  left  to  starve. 
The  daughter,  scorched  without  and  parched  within  by  the 
fire  of  the  noon-day  sun,  dares  not  to  stretch  her  hand  and 
pluck  the  rich  clusters  that  hang  around  her,  or  dip  her  cup 
in  the  flowing  wine- vat  when  ready  to  faint ;  for  the  vineyard 
is  'not  her  own,'  but  she  is  a  mere  drudge  and  slave  to  cruel 
task-masters.  No  marvel  that  she  should  afterwards  compare 
the  refreshing  of  Christ's  love  to  the  excellence  of  wine;  be- 
cause when  she  had  needed  it  most,  and  when  she  saw  it  in 
abundance  no  man  gave  unto  her ;'  no  cheering  wine-cup  had 
been  presented  to  her  parched  lips. 

The  mother's  children  in  the  Old  Testament  parable,  and 
the  citizen  of  the  far  county  in  the  New,  are  the  same  parties 
under  different  designations.  Both  were  seeming  friends,  both 
proved  to  be  cruel  foes,  and  the  relation  to  both  was  not  of 
first  origin  but  of  subsequent  adoption;  the  union  in  each  case 
having  been  formed  by  the  wayward  child,  who  had  forsaken 
a  heavenly  Father's  house.  This  is  evident  in  the  prodigal 
son,  and  a  careful  examination  makes  it  equally  clear  in  the 
wandering  daughter.  That  Psalm  of  David  which  forms 
the  compact  model  for  the  Song  of  Solomon,  in  one  of  the 
most  marked  of  all  its  passages,  introduces  the  Eternal  Father 
addressing  the  bride  of  his  Son,  'Plearken  O  daughter  and 
consider,  forget  thine  own  people  and  thy  father's  house.'  The 
heavenly  Father  calls  her  his  own  daughter,  his  daughter  now 
by  adoption,  his  daughter  now  by  marriage  to  his  Only  Son; 
but  his  daughter  likewise  by  recovery,  his  daughter  by  re- 
generation, his  own  apostate  daughter  restored,  his  daughter 
found  that  had  been  lost,  his  daughter  that  was  dead  alive 


118  THE  BraDE's  PORTRAIT  OF  HERSELF.    ChAP.  I.  6. 

again.  The  great  charge  he  lays  upon  her  is  to  ^forget  her 
own  people  and  her  father's  house ;'  and  why  forget  them,  ex- 
cept because  they  ought  never  to  have  been  her  own,  and  had 
become  hers  only  by  her  forsaking  her  heavenly  Father's  house. 
Now,  these  'own  people  and  father's  house'  of  the  Psalm, 
can  be  none  other  than  'the  mother's  children'  of  the  Song. 

But  further,  the  unkind  mother's  children,  and  the  foreign 
citizen  hospitable  at  first  but  cruel  in  the  end,  are  introduced 
at  the  very  same  crisis  in  the  respective  parables.  His  fellow- 
citizen's  cruelty  was  not  that  which  really  reduced  the  prodigal 
to  want,  for  in  want  he  was  already,  but  was  merely  the  scourge 
that  drove  home  the  discovery  of  his  desperate  condition.  So, 
likewise,  it  was  not  the  vine-dressing  that  first  marred  the 
beauty  of  the  bride,  for  she  narrates  that  the  sun  had  looked 
on  her  and  blackened  her  already,  before  her  mother's  children 
sent  her  into  the  vineyard.  She  had  forsaken  the  home  of  her 
Father  and  her  God,  and  roamed  in  lawless  liberty,  till  by 
exposure  to  the  sun  all  her  beauty  had  departed.  In  her 
wretchedness  she  joins  herself  to  a  citizen  of  the  country  whom 
she  calls  her  father,  and  his  household  her  mother's  children; 
and  they  send  her  to  what  was  accounted  a  degrading  employ- 
ment for  a  man,  and  would  be  for  a  female  the  work  only  of 
a  slave.  This  completes  what  she  had  much  more  than  com- 
menced, and  burns  up  every  fancied  remnant  of  beauty  in  the 
once  comely  and  tender  daugliter  of  the  Great  King,  till  her 
'skin  is  black  like  an  oven.' 

But  thou  sad  slave-girl,  a  welcome  and  wondrous  message 
sounds  in  thine  ears  all  unused  to  the  notes  of  joy.  Thy  First- 
born Brother  has  ransomed  thee  at  a  great  price,  and  has  made 
over  unto  thee  a  vineyard  all  thine  own;  its  fruit  is  excellent 
and  comely,  its  wine  without  money  and  without  price;  and 
thy  heavenly  Father  calls  thee  to  be  Bride  to  his  Only  Son. 
Not  more  sweet  to  the  prodigal  son  when  he  came  to  himself 
was  the  new-born  thought  arising  within  his  heart,  'there  is 
bread  enough  in  my  Father's  house ;  than  is  to  thee  the  heaven- 
ly summons,  'Hearken  O  daughter,  and  forget  thine  own  peo- 
ple, so  shall  the  King  greatly  desire  thy  beauty' — yes  thy 
beauty,  for  in  that  hour  he  clothes  thco  with  his  own  divine 


CHAP.  I.  6.  THE  SUNBURNT  SLAVE-GIRL.  119 

comeliness.  ^  Arise,  O  captive  daughter  of  Zion,  loose  the 
bands  of  thy  neck,  shake  thyself  from  the  dust,'  cast  away  the 
mattock  with  which  thou  hast  wrought  in  a  vineyard  that 
yields  thee  only  labor  and  sorrow,  'put  on  thy  beautiful  gar- 
ments, for  thy  King  cometh  unto  thee,  just  and  having  salva- 
tion—He is  thy  Lord  and  worship  thou  him.  Thus  shalt 
thou  be  brought  unto  the  King  in  raiment  of  needlework,  with 
gladness  and  rejoicing  shalt  thou  be  brought,  and  thou  shalt 
enter  into  the  King's  Palace.' 

But  while  the  chief  neglect  of  the  'own  vineyard'  was  ni 
bondage  to  sin,  to  the  world,  to  Satan,  in  whose  service  the 
^own  soul'  is  forgot  and  cast  away,  and  in  bondage  to  the  law 
which  gives  soul-labor  in  that  which  is  now  a  fruitless  field; 
yet  we  cannot  leave  this  passage  without  remembering,  that 
in  God's  own  children  there  is  often  sad  neglect  of  the  vine- 
yard of  their  own  souls,  which  also  the  confession  includes. 
Ministers,  parents,  teachers,  members  of  churches,  are  tempted 
so  to  attend  to  the  interests  of  other  souls  as  to  forget  their  own. 
Abroad  the  Heathen,  the  Jew,  the  Papist,  the  Greek,  the  Mo- 
hammedan ;  at  home  the  Ishraaelite  in  the  tents  of  Kedar  join- 
in  e  hard  by  the  curtains  of  Solomon;  are  all  sought  out  though 
no°t  sufficiently,  and  their  vineyards  cared  for,  while  tlie  vine- 
yard of  our  own  souls  lies  neglected,  its  stone  wall  broken 
down,  the  fence  thereof  covered  with  nettles.     But  let  us  all 
remember,  that  in  the  great  day  no  keeping  of  other  men's 
vineyards  will  compensate  for  the  neglect  of  our  own ;  and 
that,  how  good  or  how  urgent  soever  may  seem  the  cause  that 
induces  the  evil,  the  ground  that  beareth  briars  and  thorns  is 
nigh  unto  cursing,  and  its  end  is  to  be  burned.     To  fill  the 
heart  with  grace  is  not  indeed  within  our  own  power,  yet  the 
empty  and  earthly  heart  is  the  product  as  well  as  the  source 
of  our  own  sin. 

Against  myself  I  bear  record, 

That  hence  my  bondage  flows ; 

While  I  neglect  to  serve  my  Lord, 

I'm  left  to  serve  my  foes. 

ErsHne. 

'My  own  vineyard  have  I  not  kept,'  is  ever  a  painful  and 


120  THE  bride's  portrait  of  herself,   chap.  I.  6. 

humbling  confession;  if  made  lightly  or  without  grief  and 
shame,  the  evil  owned  is  aggravated  by  the  very  acknowledge- 
ment; and  so  also  if  it  is  confessed  without  resolute  purpose 
of  immediate  amendment.  'My  own  vineyard  I  have  not 
kept'  is  neither  atonement  for  the  past,  nor  satisfaction  for  the 
future.  If  truth  compels  us  to  adopt  the  confession,  let  us 
throuofh  ffrace  resolve  and  commence  at  once  to  effect  and 
maintain  a  thorough  ordering  and  diligent  keeping  of  the  vine- 
yard of  our  own  heart  and  life.  Whatever  is  neglected  let  us 
attend  to  this,  till  in  measure  we  are  enabled  to  say  to  the  praise 
of  his  grace,  'my  own  vineyard  I  have  kept;'  not  only  for  the 
world,  nor  for  the  church,  but  for  myself,  'I  have  fought  a 
good  fight,  I  have  kept  the  faith,  I  have  finished  my  course.' 
Having  adopted  this  humbling  acknowledgment  of  the  Bride 
in  the  commencement  of  her  Song,  let  us  not  rest  till  enabled 
to  unite  with  her  at  its  close  in  saying,  my  vineyard  which  is 
mine  is  before  me  (viii.  12).  Let  us  ever  also  remember,  that 
the  utmost  honor  man  can  render  to  God  on  earth  is  the  well- 
kept  vineyard  of  his  own  heart  and  life;  and  that  the  greatest 
benefit  he  can  bestow  on  his  fellow-men  is  to  set  before  them 
the  example,  the  warning,  the  attraction,  the  encouragement, 
and  the  holy  provocation  of  his  own  vineyard  well  kept — that 
is,  well  walled,  Avell  watched,  well  watered,  well  dug,  well 
weeded,well  planted,  well  pruned, — a  vineyard  bearing,  through 
Christ  Jesus  by  the  Spirit,  much  fruK  to  the  great  husband- 
man, even  the  Father.     Amen. 


CJIAP.  I,  7.  THE   GOOD   SHEPHEKD.  121 


III. 

THE  SHEPHERD  WHOM  THE  SOUL  EOVETH. 

HIS  PASTURE  AND  NOONTIDE  REST— THE  FOOTSTEPS  OF 
THE  FLOCIv  AND  FEEDING-PLACE  07  THE  KIDS. 

Tell  me,  0  thou  wliom  my  soul  loveth,  where  thou  feedest,  where  thou 
makest  thy  flock  to  rest  at  noon;  for  why  should  I  be  as  one  that  turneth 
aside  by  the  flocks  of  thy  companions?  If  thou  know  not,  0  thou  fairest 
among  women,  go  thy  way  forth  by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock,  and  feed 
thy  kids  beside  the  shepherds'  tents. — Chap.  i.  7,  8. 

THE   GOOD   SHEPHEED's   PASTUPvE   AND    NOONTIDE   REST. 

Tell  mc,  0  thou  idiom  my  soul  lovdh,  is  the  earnes't  address 
of  the  Bride  whose  holy  desire  for  divine  fellowshi])  increases 
in  proportion  as  it  is  deferred;  the  lost  sheep  returning  to  the 
Bishop  of  souls  loves  with  all  its  strength  the  Shepherd  who 
laid  down  his  life.     'Lovest  thou  nie?'  the  risen  Bridegroom 
inquires   of  one  of  the  virgins,  and   with  reason — for  how 
changed  was  thy  visage,  Bride  of  the  Lamb,  in  the  hour  of 
trial!     Thou  wast  first  of  the  children  of  the  bridechamber 
while  the  Bridegroom  was  with  them,  foremost  of  the  lamp- 
bearing  virgins,  with  swiftest  foot  and  surest  eye  didot  thou 
meet  thy  Lord  and  salute  him,  'Thou  art  the  Christ' — 'ointment 
poured  forth  is  thy  name !'    Thine  was  the  most  earnest  2:»rayer, 
'Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee,'  so  that  even  the  deep  waters 
did  not  chill  thy  love — 'If  it  be  thou,  bid  me  come  unto  tliee 
on  the  water;'  and  the  King  'had  brought  thee  into  his  cham- 
bers,' where  not  flesh  and  blood  but  the  Father  in  heaven  had 
unveiled  and  revealed  his  Beloved  Son.     But  in  thine  own 
strength  didst  thou  go  forth,  the  watchmen  found  thee  and 
took  away  thy  veil,  the  sun  of  fiery  trial  looked  on  thee  and 
smote  thee  with  its  rays,  and  ere  thou  knewest,  thy  beauty 
was  'burned  as  an  hearth.'     Thy  mother's  children  were  angry 


122  THE    GOOD    SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  7. 

with  thee  when  they  saw  thee  in  the  garden  with  him,  their 
threats  and  reproaches  brought  thee  into  bondage,  and  of  thine 
own  vineyard  in  that  hour  thou  didst  prove  an  unfaithful 
guardian;  its  gate,  even  the  door  of  thy  lips,  thou  didst  not 
keep,  and  its  well  of  living  waters  the  stranger  stopped.  Then 
thy  Lord  looked  on  thcc  in  love,  and  no  marvel  if  thy  weeping 
face  was  hid,  and  thy  sobs  spake  for  thee,  ^Look  not  upon  me 
for  I  am  black,  for  the  sun  hath  looked  upon  me.'  But,  Bride 
of  the  Lamb,  'Lovesfc  thou  me?'  asks  thy  Lord  anew, — 'Yea 
Lord,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee;'  'Simon  son  of  Jonas 
lovest  thou  me?' — 'Lord  thou  knowest  all  things,  thou  knowest 
that  I  love  thee.' 

So  here  the  Bride  having  confessed  her  deformity,  yet  pro- 
tests that  she  loves  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  protests  it  more 
earnestly  than  before.  'The  virgins  love  thee,'  she  had  said 
more  distinctly  at  first;  'the  upright  love  thee'  next,  confirming 
her  first  declaration;  but  now  'my  soul  loveth  thee,'  she  ar- 
dently affirms,  yea  'Lord,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee.'  The 
love  of  the  redeemed  to  the  Redeemer,  of  the  saved  to  the 
Saviour,  is  the  most  real  of  all  affections — is  love  not  in  word 
but  in  truth.  Neither  is  it  a  surface  affection,  but  the  deepest 
in  the  heart;  nor  a  partial  attachment  of  some  of  the  affections, 
but  the  devotion  of  the  whole  soul.  'Thou  shalt  love  with 
all  thy  heart  and  soul  and  strength  and  mind,'  is  a  devotion 
which  no  creature  can  demand,  and  which  no  creature  can 
attract  to  itself.  The  creature  may  indeed  be  beloved  more 
than  the  Creator  who  is  blessed  for  evermore,  but  the  fulness 
'of  the  heart's  desire  that  creature  can  never  satisfy,  and  can 
never  elicit.  The  attractive  loveliness  of  things  seen  and 
temporal,  consists  mainly  in  the  beauty  with  which  the  ad- 
miring mind  invests  them;  but  in  himself,  and  not  in  thine 
imagination,  the  King  is  altogether  lovely — sufficient  to  draw 
forth  and  to  satisfy  all  thy  affections.  Flesh  He  is  of  thy 
flesh  and  bone  of  thy  bone,  but  likewise  thy  Lord  whom  thou 
mayest,  whom  thou  canst,  whom  thou  must  with  all  thy  heart 
adore;  'the  Lord  thy  God'  whom  lawfully  thou  mayest,  whom 
attractively  thou  canst,  and  whom  imperatively  'thou  shalt 
love  with  all  thy  mind,  and  all  thy  soul,  and  all  thy  strength.' 


CHAP.  I.  7.       HIS  PASTURE  AND  NOONTIDE  REST.  123 

Christ  loved  by  the  believer  with  his  whole  heart,  Is  at  the 
same  time  loved  above  all,  alone  of  all,  instead  of  all.  Not 
merely  is  it  'my  soul  loveth'  thee,  but  'O  thou  whom  my  soul 
loveth.'  Jesus  claims  such  love,  and  will  accept  of  nothing 
less,  of  nothing  else.  To  the  Bride,  'the  little  flock,'  the  con- 
stant followers  of  the  Shepherd,  he  declares  unequivocally, 
'He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is  not  V\'orthy 
of  me,  and  he  that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  nic  is  not 
worthy  of  me'  (Matt.  x.  37).  To  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
the  people  who  crowd  around  him  in  multitudes,  he  turns  and 
protests  that  if  they  desire  to  be  numbered  with  'the  virgins 
that  love  him,'  theirs  also  must  be  such  an  affection — 'If  any 
man  come  to  me  and  hate  not  his  father  and  mother,  and  wife 
and  children,  and  brethren  and  sisters,  yea  and  his  own  life 
also,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple'  (Luke  xiv.  26).  The  Bride 
also  by  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  virgins  replies — 'Yea  doubt- 
less, and  I  count  all  things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord;  for  whom  I  have  suffered 
the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count  them  but  dung  that  I  may 
win  Christ  and  be  found  in  him'  (Phil.  iii.  8).  Yet  how  rare 
this  love  is,  how  divided  the  hearts  of  most  professed  followers 
of  the  Lamb,  how  few  can  address  him  sincerely.  Thou  whom 
my  soul  loveth!  It  is  not  merely  whom  my  soul  honoreth 
but  Avhom  my  soul  loveth,  not  wlioni  my  soul  obeyeth  but 
whom  my  soul  loveth,  not  whom  my  soul  ought  to  love  but 
whom  my  soul  doth  love. 

Tell  me  ivhere  thou  fecdest  is  the  cry  of  longing  desire  but 
also  of  earnest  and  baffled  inquiry;  yet  different  from  the 
midnight  search  when  the  Bride  has  to  ask  the  watchmen  for 
her  absent  Lord,  and  still  more  different  from  the  penitent 
inquiry  in  which  she  has  recourse  to  the  daughters  of  Jerusa- 
lem. Here  Christ  is  not  so  far  off,  nor  does  she  ask  of  others, 
'Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?'  but  directly  accosts 
himself,  'O  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth,  tell  me  where  thou 
feedestthy  flock.'  It  is,  however,  no  longer  'draw  me  we  will 
run,'  when  the  Lord  is  before,  and  she  only  requires  to  follow; 
he  is  now  not  merely  distant  and  must  be  overtaken,  but  lost 
and  must  be  found;  yet  she  has  recourse  to  none  but  himself, 


124  THE    GOOD    SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  7. 

'O  tell  mc  where  thou  feedest.'  It  is  altogether  a  shigular 
intercourse  which  Jesus  holds  with  his  bride  through  tlie  misty 
veil  that  s^arates  them.  Through  this  mist  he  constantly 
addresses  her,  as  if  within  hearing  but  not  within  sight.  'Seek 
and  ye  shall  find/  is  the  word  of  one  not  far  off — so  near  that 
he  speaks  and  we  hear  his  voice,  we  answer  and  he  hears  us — 
yet  himself  we  cannot  reach.  'We  go  forward  but  he  is  not 
there,  backward  but  we  cannot  perceive  him,  on  the  left  hand 
where  he  worketh,  but  we  cannot  behold  him,  he  hidetli  him- 
self on  the  right  hand  that  Ave  cannot  see  him.'  Yet  by  the 
hearing  of  the  ear  do  we  hear  him,  and  by  the  utterance  of 
our  lips  our  reply  comes  up  into  his  ears.  In  a  moment  of 
grace  he  might  unveil  himself,  yet  himself  he  unveils  not;  in 
a  moment  of  anger  he  might  withdraw  himself  and  be  silent, 
yet  he  withdraws  not,  and  he  is  not  silent.  But  hiding  him- 
self he  saith,  'Seek  and  ye  shall  find;'  directing  us  to  seek, 
and  promising  to  reward  our  search;  yet  again  when  we  have 
sought,  answering  us  anew,  'Then  shall  ye  find  me  when  ye 
search  for  me  with  all  your  heart.'  He  answers  his  Bride  but 
his  reply  is  not.  Behold  me,  but  'go  thy  way  forth  by  the 
footsteps  of  the  flock.'  -Strange,  attractive,  trying,  fascinating 
intercourse  for  the  soul ;  wondrous  testing  of  patience,  of  sub- 
mission, of  love,  of  zeal,  of  perseverance ;  singular  revelation 
of  condescension,  pity,  love,  grace,  combined  with  holy  sover- 
eignty, highest  dignity,  and  inscrutable  majesty !  '  O  the  height 
and  the  depth  and  the  length  and  the  breadth  of  the  love  of 
God!  O  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and 
knowledge  of  God,  how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments  and 
his  ways  past  finding  out!' 

'Tell  me  where  thou  feedest,'  is  a  confession  not  only  of 
weakness  requiring  to  be  drawn,  but  of  darkness  requiring  to 
be  enlightened.  'For  judgment  I  am  come  into  this  world 
that  they  which  see  not  might  see:  if  ye  were  blind  ye  should 
have  no  sin.'  The  inquiry  implies  ignorance  felt  and  owned. 
Nor  is  it  a  general  indication  of  the  kind  of  pastures  where 
the  shepherd  feeds  his  flock  that  will  suffice  his  bride,  but  of 
the  actual  pastures  into  which  he  is  leading  them  now;  not  of 
the  places  he  is  wont  to  frequent,  but  of  the  particular  spot  in 


CHAP.  I.  7.      HIS  PASTURE  AXD  NOONTIDE  REST.  125 

which  she  may  at  present  find  him.  Such  a  general  direction 
is  all,  indeed,  that  he  appears  to  grant,  but  is  obviously  not 
all  that  she  asks.  The  inquiry  refers  to  the  custom  of  shepherds 
guiding  their  flocks  to  fresh  pastures  when  one  spot  has  been 
eaten  down,  to  return  thither  again  when  the  herbage  shall 
have  grown  anew.  The  green  pastures  of  Christ's  flock  are 
the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  the  Word  of  God,  with  all 
its  doctrines,  all  its  ordinances,  and  all  its  precepts.  Through- 
out these  wide  ranges  the  Good  She})herd  leads  his  flock  from 
place  to  place,  feeding  them  with  food  convenient  for  them. 
Many  of  the  sheep  and  not  a  few  of  the  shepherds  overlook 
this  important  feature  of  divine  leading ;  and  having  fallen  on 
some  green  spot — it  may  be  the  first  on  which  their  souls  found 
rest,  and  utoply  also  the  greenest  in  the  wide  field  of  the  Word 
— there  they  remain,  and  thence  they  will  not  move,  though 
there  is  now  little  herbage  for  them  there,  and  they  are  feed- 
ing on  the  memory  of  pastures  tliat  once  were  green.  Mean- 
while the  Shepherd  hath  gone  elsewhere  with  his  flocks,  and, 
thou  straying  sheep  whom  he  hath  restored,  it  is  thy  wisdom 
to  ask  where  he  is  feeding  thera  now,  and  where  thou  mayest 
find  fellowship  with  him  ;  for  '  as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Sj^irit 
of  God  they  are  the  sous  of  God.'  The  inquiry  may  draw  thee 
for  a  season  to  pastures  less  rich  and  luxuriant,  but  if  it  be 
only  to  pick  the  herbage  from  amongst  the  rocks,  thou  shalt 
find  thy  Shepherd  there,  and  shalt  not  want ;  and  ere  long  he 
will  conduct  and  restore  thy  soul  to  its  first  resting-place,  now 
growing  fresh  and  green  again,  and  thou  shalt  be  satisfied  as 
on  Bashan  and  Gilead  in  tlie  days  of  old. 

And  lohere  thou  makcst  thy  fioch  to  rest  at  noon,  is  not  a  mere 
repetition  of '  where  thou  feedest  it,'  for  the  one  is  a  season  of 
comparative  labor,  the  other  of  rest.  The  one  object  of  both 
petitions  is  that  the  soul  may  be  always  with  Christ — 'Whither 
thou  goest  I  M^ill  go,  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge.' 
All  times  are  alike  to  him,  but  not  all  alike  to  us ;  and  the 
distinction  may  refer  to  periods  of  work  and  periods  of  rest, 
in  both  of  which  it  is  essential  to  have  the  presence  and  fellow- 
ship of  Jesus.  With  the  shepherdess  bride  the  feeding  of  the 
flocks  was  her  ordinary  calling,  to  which  she  must  attend,  and 


126  THE   GOOD   SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  7. 

during  which  her  intercourse  with  the  Chief  Shepherd  must 
be  of  an  interrupted  character.  To  converse  with  him  is  not 
the  duty  in  which  we  are  engaged,  although  for  him  all  our 
duty  is  discharged ;  but  it  is  gain  indeed  if  we  tend  our  flock 
in  the  pasture  where  he  tendeth  his,  so  that  throughout  our 
daily  toil  He  may  seldom  be  out  of  our  sight,  or  the  reach  of 
our  voice;  and  that  from  time  to  time  we  may  snatch  passing 
converse  with  him;  may  hear  him  call  'look  unto  Me;'  may 
apply  to  him,  and  by  him  be  aided,  in  the  hourly  difficulties 
of  our  own  vocation.  Then  the  season  when  he  maketli 
his  flock  to  rest  at  noon,  and  ours  rests  with  it  side  by  side,  is 
the  hour  when  there  is  nothing  requiring  our  earthly  care,  and 
the  time  may  be  expressly  devoted  to  communion  with  him- 
self. Blessed  are  they  who  find  him  at  both  thc^times;  in 
the  times  of  daily  devotion  to  enter  more  fully  into  his  heart 
and  mind,  and  in  the  times  of  daily  work  to  walk  up  and  down 
in  his  name,  'two  walking  together  being  agreed.'  If  we  miss 
him  on  either  occasion,  we  are  apt  to  lose  him  for  both;  if  we 
forget  to  walk  with  him  in  the  feeding  of  the  flocks,  there  is 
danger  of  failing  to  find  his  resting-place  at  noon;  and  if  we 
fail  to  converse  with  him  in  the  noontide  rest  and  thence  to  go 
forth  along  with  him,  there  is  little  hope  of  finding  him  in  the 
busy  pasturing  of  the  flocks  while  we  move  from  place  to  place. 
Virgin  daughter  of  Zion,  if  thou  wouldst  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  he  goeth,  see  that  thou  fix  thine  eye  on  him  con- 
tinually. 

For  icliy  should  I  he  as  one  that  turneth  aside  by  the  flocks  of 
thy  companions  f — is  an  appeal  to  the  heart  of  Jesus.  The  com- 
panions must  be  the  shepherds  under  him,  for  he  is  a  Shepherd 
King, — yet  friends  admitted  to  his  fellowship  as  well  as  his 
service;  and  not  only  pastors,  though  these  specially,  but  all 
his  faithful  followers,  the  friends  whom  he  invites  to  eat  and 
drink  along  with  him.  With  the  society  of  these  companions, 
honored  as  they  might  be,  she  pleads  that  it  is  not  fit  that  the 
King's  Bride  should  be  satisfied,  not  fit  that  He  should  suffer 
it,  nor  that  she  should  rest  in  it.  Must  she  be  turned  aside 
from  following  him  because  she  has  failed  to  find  him,  and 
driven  by  his  absence  to  this  most  inferior  fellowship ;  must 


CHAP.  I.  8.        THE   FOOTSTEPS   OF   THE   FLOCK.  127 

she  wander  from  one  sliepherd's  tent  to  another  because  none 
of  them  can  satisfy ;  must  she  even  be  counted  by  them  as  no 
faithful  bride  of  the  Lamb,  but  as  having  lords  many  and 
gods  many,  and  idols  after  her  own  heart?  'O  tell  me  where 
thou  feedest  thy  flocks,  for  why  should  I  be  as  one  that  turneth 
aside  by  the  flocks  of  thy  companions?'  Nor  is  the  fear  im- 
aginary, for  the  wise  virgin  sees  many  of  her  lamp-bearing 
associates  turning  thus  aside,  and  she  is  jealous  lest  she  should 
be  temjjted  to  follow  them ;  many  ignorantly  yet  contentedly 
coming  short  of  Christ,  and  resting  in  sermons,  in  sacraments, 
in  ministers,  in  duties;  preferring  those  to  Christ  because  they 
cannot  trv  the  ]ieart  and  reins,  nor  demand  the  single  homasre 
of  the  whole  soul.  Header,  hast  thou  for  thyself  discovered 
the  green  pastures  of  the  good  Sliepherd ;  hast  thou  found  his 
resting-place  at  noon  and  heard  him  say  to  thy  soul,  Come 
unto  me  and  I  will  give  thee  rest?  Or  hast  thou  risen  to  seek 
him  and  afterward  turned  aside,  not  turned  back  to  the  world 
and  sin,  but  turned  aside  to  the  flocks  of  the  comjDanions? 
Safer  far  if  thou  Iiadst  found  no  rest  at  all,  than  rest  so  decep- 
tive and  ruinous.  'Arise  for  this  is  not  thy  rest,  it  will  destroy 
thee  with  a  sore  destruction.'  Pray  thou,  and  rest  thou  never 
till  thou  find  the  answer  to  thy  prayer,  'O  tell  me  \vhere  thou 
feedest,  where  thou  makest  thy  flock  to  rest  at  noon.' 


THE  FOOTSTEPS    OF    THE  FLOCK,    AND  FEEDIXG-PLACE  OF  THE  KIDS. 

If  thou  hiow  not,  0  tliou  fairest  among  women;  the  answer  is 
kind  and  helpful,  rather  than  cheering,  far  less  satisfying. 
Yet  the  personal  address  is  full  of  comfort — 'O  thou  fairest 
among  women.'  '  Look  not  on  me  for  the  sun  hath  looked  on 
me,'  saith  the  Bride;  'Thou  art  all  fair  my  love,  there  is  no 
spot  in  thee,'  saith  her  Lord.  Fairer  than  the  sons  of  men  is 
the  character  of  Christ;  the  fairest  among  women,  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Church  his  Bride,  Admiration  is  not  in  the  first  in- 
stance necessary,  either  as  the  seed  or  as  the  fruit  of  love ;  for 
God  loved  us  with  great  love  'even  Avhen  we  were  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins,'  loving  us  because  he  loved  us.     Yet  grace 


128  THE   GOOD   SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  8. 

is  ever  linked  with  God's  eternal  purpose  to  make  the  Church 
lovely,  'according  as  he  hath  chosen  us  in  him  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world,  that  we  should  be  holy  and  without 
blame  before  him  in  love.'  '  Christ  loved  the  Church  and  gave 
himself  for  it,  that  he  might  present  it  to  himself  a  glorious 
church  without  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing.'  Looking 
on  the  Church  as  washed  in  his  own  blood,  'He  sees  already 
no  sin  in  Jacob,  nor  transgression  in  Israel ;'  and  on  his  Church 
he  never  looks,  without  also  regarding  and  admiring  her  as 
finally  'presented  to  himself — the  fairest  among  women — with- 
out spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing.' 

If  thou  knoiD  not,  go  thy  loay  forth  by  the  footsteps  oftJiefloek. 
— In  Moses,  the  chosen  shepherd  of  Israel,  these  words  had  a 
remarkable  fulfilment  according  to  the  letter.  None  of  the 
sons  of  men  ever  prayed  more  earnestly  'let  him  kiss  me  with 
the  kisses  of  his  mouth,'  or  in  his  own  language  'I  beseech  thee 
show  me  thy  glory.'  The  kiss  of  the  King  of  kings  is  bestowed 
on  him,  as  scarcely  on  any  other  of  the  human  family,  for  the 
Lord  speaks  to  him  '  face  to  face  as  a  man  talketh  with  his 
friend.'  But  these  prayers  from  the  shepherd  of  the  people 
and  these  answers,  were  the  fruit  of  earlier  cries  when  he  pre- 
ferred the  reproach  of  Christ  to  the  treasures  in  Egypt,  and, 
refusing  to  be 'called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's  daughter,  became 
the  pastor  not  of  men  but  of  sheep  in  the  desert  of  Sinai.  This 
Moses,  outwardly  exceeding  fair,  and  morally  a  fit  type  of  the 
Bride  the  'fairest  among  women,'  must  oft  in  the  midst  of 
these  solitary  years,  and  amongst  those  few  sheep  in  the  wilder- 
ness, have  raised  the  earnest  cry,  '  O  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth, 
tell  me  where  thou  feedest  thy  flock.'  The  answer  is,  '  If  thou 
know  not,  O  thou  fairest  among  women,  go  thy  way  forth  by 
the  footsteps  of  the  flock.'  He  goes  forth,  and  following  the 
flock  he  comes  to  the  mountain  of  God,  even  to  Horeb;  the 
!ilngel  of  the  Lord  appears  in  the  bush, — he  turns  aside  to  see 
this  great  sight — he  learns  that  he  has  lighted  on  the  very 
resting-place  of  the  Lord's  flock — he  hears  the  great  Shepherd 
declare,  '  when  thou  hast  brought  forth  the  people  out  of  Egypt, 
ye  shall  worship  God  in  this  mountain.' 

Ever  since  the  Good  Shepherd  began  to  gather  his  lost  sheep 


CHAP.  I.  8.        THE   FOOTSTEPS   OP   THE   FLOCK.  129 

around  him,  he  has  put  great  honor  on  'the  little  flock/  and 
on  every  sheep  belonging  to  it.  The  first  of  all  the  flock,  that 
was  slain  by  the  evening  wolf,  being  dead  yet  speaketh,  and 
his  steps  have  left  their  everlasting  footprints  for  a  guide  to 
all  the  sheep  that  were  to  follow.  While  to  the  infallible 
Word  is  the  first  and  the  last  appeal  in  all  matters  either  of 
doctrine  or  of  duty,  our  faith  is  confirmed  by  knowing  that 
our  reception  of  the  Word  is  according  to  the  'faith  of  God's 
elect'  in  all  ages  of  the  world;  for  if  we  are  members  of  Christ 
we  are  members  of  all  his  flock,  standing  in  the  way  and  seek- 
ing the  old  paths,  and  finding  rest  to  our  souls.  In  the  practi- 
cal also  quite  as  much  as  in  the  doctrinal,  the  faithful  find  it 
helpful  to  become  followers  of  those  who  through  faith  and 
patience  inherit  the  promises ;  and  especially  in  the  daily  re- 
curring questions  that  are  embraced  in  rhe  description  of  'all 
things  lawful  but  all  things  not  expedient.'  In  these  cases  it 
is  important  and  incumbent  to  inquire  what  is  of  'good  report' 
in  the  Church,  and  to  follow  the  footsteps  of  the  flock,  and  not 
the  wanderings  of  the  children  of  this  world.  In  such  paths 
the  true  sheep  of  the  fold  will  not  select  for  imitation  some 
straggler  outside  the  flock,  pertaining  to  it  yet  scarcely  walk- 
ing with  it,  but  will  cleave  to  the  close-gathered  and  compact 
body  of  the  little  company  that  hear  the  Shepherd's  voice  and 
follow  him,  knowing  not  the  voice  of  strangers;  or,  better 
still,  will  endeavor  to  tread  in  the  footsteps  of  the  very  leaders 
of  the  flock,  following  Paul  even  as  he  followed  Christ.  In 
so  doing,  believer,  thou  hast  no  difficulty  in  leaving  the  thea- 
tre, the  card-table,  and  the  ball-room,  where  'the  footsteps  of 
the  flock'  have  never  in  any  age  been  found;  and  so  guiding 
thyself  thou  wilt,  in  cases  of  doubt,  rather  refrain  and  stand 
aloof,  than  associate  and  go  forward  when  thou  discoverest  not 
his  clear  footprints  before  thee. 

Keep  thou  the  beaten  good  old  path, 

Yet  new  and  living  way; 
Which  all  the  saints  have  trod  by  faith, 

With  prayer  night  and  day. — Erskinc. 

But  to  'follow  the  footsteps  of  the  flock'  is  likewise  to  associate 


130  THE   GOOD   SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  8. 

with  the  children  of  God,  and  to  be  'companion  to  all  them 
that  fear  him.'  Thou  shalt  find  it  greatly  for  thy  soul's 
benefit,  and  most  conducive  to  the  discovery  ot  Christ's  pasture- 
ground  and  resting  place,  to  separate  thyself  from  the  world 
.and  the  children  of  the  world;  and  if  they  therefore  hate  thee 
and  cast  thee  out,  Christ  himself  whom  thou  seekest  will  the 
sooner  find  thee  and  walk  with  thee  in  love.  In  close  fellow- 
ship, also,  with  those  who  fear  the  Lord,  in  prayer,  in  godly 
converse,  in  ordinary  intercourse,  and  in  selecting  them  for 
associates,  not  for  their  eartlily  attractions  but  for  their  abun- 
dant grace,  thou  art  in  the  straight  way  toward  the  revelation 
of  Christ  himself,  for  Jesus  loves  to  be  where  his  people  are, 
and  where  they  are  valued  for  his  sake. 

And  feed  thy  kids  beside  the  shepherds'  tents. — Which  'shep- 
herds' are,  no  doubt,  the  pastors  and  teachers  in  the  Church, 
and  their  'tents'  'the  amiable  tabernacles  of  the  Lord  of  Plosts,' 
in  which  'a  day  is  better  than  a  thousand.'  Now,  to  rest  in 
these  the  Bride  greatly  dreaded;  it  was  to  turn  aside  by  the 
flocks  of  the  companions,  and  in  the  days  of  her  unbelief  she 
had  learned  to  her  cost  what  it  was  to  make  an  idol  and  an  end 
of  servants  and  of  means.  Possibly,  also,  at  her  first  espousals 
she  had  some  foretaste  of  her  future  experience  in  the  ignorance 
and  harshness  of  certain  of  the  watchmen.  From  whatever 
cause,  she  appears  in  this  to  have  carried  this  holy  jealousy  too 
far,  for  Christ  directs  her  to  the  diligent  use  of  the  very  means  in 
which  she  was  so  afraid  of  resting.  There  is  no  experience  so 
common,  soon  after  the  outset  of  the  Christian  life.  The  in- 
sufficiency of  the  creature  has  been  learned,  the  deadness  of 
the  letter,  the  inefficacy  of  unblessed  means;  and  over-against 
these  the  infinite  sweetness  of  the  love  of  Christ,  and  of  fellow- 
ship with  himself  apart  from  all  human  instrumentality.  But 
the  higher  we  advance  in  grace,  and  rise  above  leaning  on  the  in- 
struments, the  more  do  we  j)rize  and  use  all  divinely-sanctioned 
instrumentality.  The  same  jealous  Bride  of  the  Lamb  does 
afterwards  thankfully  and  eagerly  inquire  of  the  watchmen, 
'Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?'  and  finds  him  quickly, 
in  connexion  with  the  inquiry.  It  is  not,  howcverj  that  Christ 
will  deny  her  or  discourage  her  in  the  direct  and  personal 


CHAP.  I.  8.    THE   FEEDING-PLACE   OF   THE   KIDS.  131 

search  for  himself;  but  that  he  will  honor  his  own  appoint- 
ments, and  have  her  wait  patiently  on  him  in  the  observance 
and  diligent  use  of  all  the  ordained  means  of  grace.  Feed  the 
Jdds,  is  a  command  to  the  Bride  to  discharge  her  daily  duties 
as  a  Shepherdess,  the  flock  committed  to  her  care  being  first 
of  all  her  own  soul,  with  its  manifold  occupants.  Looking 
ever  to  the  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  she  proceeds  to  say, 

My  soul's  a  shepherd  too,  a  flock  it  feeds 

Of  thoughts  and  words  and  deeds ; 
The  pasture  is  thy  word,  the  streams  thy  grace, 

Enricliing  all  the  place, — Herbert. 

But  the  'feeding  of  the  kids'  is  also  the  Bride's  care  for  the 
souls  committed  to  her  charge,  and  more  expressly  the  young 
of  the  flock  and  of  the  herd.  In  seeking  our  own  soul's  salva- 
tion and  comfort,  we  must  never  neglect  the  souls  intrusted 
to  our  care,  and  especially  the  young  that  are  under  our  charge. 
Earlier  and  oftener  than  many  parents  imagine,  may  the  kids 
be  fed  by  the  shepherds'  tents,  for  children  are  not  fools  except 
so  far  as  rendered  such  by  sin;  and  irrespectively  of  more 
direct  efforts  for  themselves,  their  souls  are  capable,  through 
grace,  of  relishing  and  thriving  on  the  pastures  provided  for 
the  flock.  The  Church  in  these  days  has  done  well  in  looking 
after  the  kids  thac  they  be  not  neglected,  but  she  has  gone 
too  far  in  dividing  the  lambs  from  the  sheep  in  the  pastures, 
as  if  the  same  herbage  were  not  suitable  for  both,  and  as  if  the 
lambs  should  not  be  fed  beside  the  same  shepherds'  tents,  but 
around  separate  sheds  erected  for  themselves.  A  double  evil 
has  hence  arisen,  of  tempting  the  shepherds  to  forget  to  pitch 
their  own  tents  in  the  midst  of  food  fit  for  lambs  as  well  as  sheep, 
and  of  scarring  the  lambs  from  cropping  the  herbage  which  has 
been  chosen  only  for  the  sheep,  and  seems  not  tender  enough 
for  their  feebler  teeth.  It  is  a  double  mistake,  for  the  floek 
will  perish  where  there  is  no  pasture  for  the  kids,  and  the  kids 
will  never  starve  on  what  is  good  pasture  for  the  flock.  Feed 
thy  kids  beside  the  shepherds'  tents.  It  is  also  true  that  the 
young  in  grace,  and  likewise  the  young  in  years,  have  some- 
times, through  the  hunger  of  their  own  souls,  such  a  discern- 
I 


132  THE   GOOD    SHEPHERD.  CHAP.  I.  8. 

ment  of  the  pasture  suitable  for  them,  as  may  be  helpful  to 
the  pastors  themselves  in  seeking  the  great  Shepherd. 

If,  fairest  maid,  thou  knowest  not 

The  pathway  to  my  calm  retreat; 
Thy  kids  shall  guide  thee  to  the  spot; 

The  young  can  trace  their  mother's  feet. 

Graduate  of  0.rf. 

But  remember,  Bride  of  the  Lamb  with  charge  of  young 
souls,  and  especially  of  those  born  in  thy  house,  that  it  is  not 
enough  for  thee  to  feed  those  kids  with  the  green  pastures  tliat 
surround  the  shepherds'  tents,  but  thou  must  also  lead  them 
forth  by  'the  footsteps  of  the  flock.'  Thither  wouldst  thou 
go  for  thyself,  at  least  thou  thinkest  so,  yet  thither  oft  thou 
wilt  not  lead  thy  kids  along  with  thee ;  as  if  they  had  not 
been  committed  to  thee  for  the  very  end  both  of  guiding  and 
controlling  their  path,  so  that  they  may  walk  in  the  narrow 
way  of  life.  They  love  the  world,  and  thou  sayest  thou  must 
give  them  liberty — liberty,  that  is,  to  go  astray  like  lost  sheep, 
and  wander  in  the  broad  way  that  leadeth  unto  death.  Nay, 
peradventure  thou  addest  sin  to  sin  by  judging  tJiat  thou  canst 
follow  them  in  the  footsteps  of  the  lost,  so  as  to  watch  over 
their  souls — making  thyself  also,  for  their  sakes,  a  wanderer 
from  the  footsteps  of  the  flock.  Thus  thy  kids,  left  to  their 
own  youthful  follies,  are  feeding,  not  among  the  lilies,  but 
amid  the  briars  and  thorns  of  the  wilderness,  where  the  fox 
and  the  serpent  are  lurking  for  their  prey;  while  thou  art 
in  thine  own  path  losing  the  footprints  of  the  flock,  endan- 
gering thine  own  soul,  enticing  or  emboldening  others  to 
wander  from  the  fold,  preparing  for  thyself  sorrow  in  this  life, 
and  for  thy  children  no  crown  of  glory  when  the  chief  Shep- 
herd shall  appear.  'Go,'  rather  then,  'thy  way,  follow  thou 
the  footsteps  of  the  flock,  and  feed  thy  kids  likewise  by  the 
shepherds'  tents.' 


CHAP.  I.  9-11.  THE  CHARIOTS  OF  PHAEAOH. 


133 


rv. 

THE  CHARIOTS  OF  PHAEAOH,  THE  CHAINS  OF  GOLD, 
THE  BEAUTIFUL  CROWN. 

I  have  coQipared  thee,  0  my  love,  to  a  company  of  horses  in  Pharaoh's 
chariots.  Thy  cheeks  are  comely  with  rows  of  jewels,  thy  neck  Avith 
chains  of  gold.  We  will  make  thee  borders  of  gold  with  studs  of  silver.— 
Chap.  i.  9,  10, 11. 

THE  CHARIOTS  OP   PHARAOH. 

0  my  love. — How  suddenly  and  how  completely  changed  is 
the  scene! — the  Bride  no  longer  seeking  either  a  near  or  a 
distant  Saviour,  but  having  found  the  fellowship  she  desired ; 
no  more  remembering  the  past  or  hoping  for  the  future,  but 
rejoicing  in  the  present  consolations  of  the  Spirit,  and  in  the 
closest  communion  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     She  has  sub- 
mitted patiently  to  his  denial,  obediently  to  his  command,  and 
soon,  or  even  instantly,  has  obtained  more  than  she  had  sought. 
She  has  traced  the  footsteps  of  the  flock,  she  has  fed  by  the 
shepherds'  tents,  or  it  is  in  her  heart  so  to  search  for  her  ab- 
sent Lord,  but  in  following  hard  after  him  she  has  quickly 
outstripped  them  all.     Being  drawn,  she  has  run,  her  feet  have 
become  swift  as  the  hind's,  and  to  the  joy  of  her  Lord  and  her 
own,  she  finds  herself  in  his  presence,  seated  with  him  'at  his 
table'  (12).     The  sacramental  table  haply  it  may  be,  or  the 
house  of  prayer,  or  the  closet,  or  '  the  solitary  place '  of  the 
mountain,  or  the  river's  side.     The  Bridegroom  first  accosts 
her,    'O  my  love,'  responding  to  her  own  address,   'Thou 
whom  my  soul  loveth.'     He  declares  that  the  love  is  mutual; 
for  he  loves  them  that  love  him,  and  those  who  thus  seek  him 
early  shall  find  him.     How  SNveet  to  be  thus  assured,  thus 
accosted  by  his  own  lips,  O  my  love,  my  friend,  my  associate, 
or,  in  the  expressive  rendering  of  some  of  our  old  translators. 
My  fellow-friend!     What  a  reward  even  in  this  life  of  all 
longing,  seeking,  hoping,  waiting,  fainting!     What  a  joy  un- 


134  THE   CHARIOTS   OF   PHARAOH.  CHAP.  I.  9. 

speakable  to  be  welcomed  thus  into  liis  palace  above !  'O  Thou 
whom  my  soul  loveth/  our  heart  hath  said  to  him  while  as 
yet  we  see  him  not;  'O  my  love/  he  will  say  to  us  face  to  face, 
'  Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father.' 

I  have  compared  thee  to  a  company  of  horses  in  Pharaoh's 
chariots,  or  as  in  the  Great  Bible,  Unto  the  host  of  Pharaoh's 
chariots  have  I  compared  thee.  So  compared,  Jirst,  because 
the  church,  the  one  Bride  of  Christ,  consists  of  an  exceeding 
great  company.  Immediately  after  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb 
in  Revelation  (xix.  7),  the  armies  which  were  in  heaven  followed 
him  upon  white  horses  (verse  14);  those  armies  being  none 
other  than  the  Bride,  the  Lamb's  wife,  whose  marriage  had 
just  been  celebrated.  If  the  Lord  is  a  Shepherd  the  Church 
is  his  flock,  if  he  is  an  husbandman  they  are  his  vineyard,  and 
if  he  is  a  captain  and  conqueror  they  are  his  chariots  and 
horses.  On  a  memorable  day  in  the  annals  of  the  Church,  the 
Bride  of  Christ  is  to  the  eye  of  man  in  the  weakness  of  death, 
she  has  run  her  race  on  earth,  and  faint  and  weary  she  waits 
to  be  carried  to  the  King's  palace  above.  But  Israel's  monarch 
reading  in  the  book  of  the  Lord,  had  seen  her  compared  to 
Pharaoh's  horses  and  chariots,  and  gazing  on  the  departing 
soul  of  the  prophet  he  beholds  an  armed  host,  and  exclaims, 
'  O  my  Father,  my  Father,  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horse- 
men thereof!'  (2  Kings  xiii.  14).  In  like  manner  in  the  sixth 
chapter  of  this  Song,  the  Bride  is  described  as  'terrible  like 
an  army  with  banners.'  Pharaoh's  chariots  and  horses  were 
well  known  to  the  daughters  of  Judah,  ever  since  Moses 
and  Miriam  had  given  them  imperishable  record  in  their  lofty 
songs.  There  was  nothing  with  which  Israel  was  acquainted 
that  presented  such  an  image  of  martial  beauty,  for  their  own 
hosts  were  glorious  not  with  the  power  and  pageantry  of  chariots 
and  horses,  but  with  the  unseen  majesty  of  the  Lord  their  God 
in  the  midst  of  them.  To  so  gorgeous  a  host  of  cavalry,  glit- 
tering with  gold  and  silver,  with  its  myriads  marching  in 
unbroken  array,  the  Church  is  compared  in  her  goodly  order 
and  her  dazzling  beauty.  The  comparison  may  be  taken  next 
of  the  conquering  power  of  the  chariot  host,  not  however  of 
Pharaoh's  chariots  conquering,  but  of  the  hosts  by  which  they 


CHAP.  I.  9.  THE   CHAEIOTS   OF    THARAOH.  136 

were  overcome.  Such  comparisons  are  frequent  in  the  Psalms 
— 'I  will  make  mention  of  Pharaoh  and  Babylon,  Philistia 
triumph  thou  because  of  me — why  leap  ye,  high  hills'?  this  is 
the  hill  that  God  desireth.'  So  in  the  Psalms  and  the  Prophets 
there  is  frequent  reference  to  another  chariot  host  that  rode 
through  the  E,ed  Sea  side  by  side  with  Pharaoh's,  but  more 
numerous  and  more  glorious  by  far,  and  overcame  it  in  the 
deadly  struggle.  It  was  the  unseen  host  of  the  chariots  and 
horsemen  of  Israel,  for  it  was  the  host  of  Israel's  God.  'The 
chariots  of  God  are  twenty  thousand ;  I  will  bring  my  people 
from  the  depths  of  the  sea ;  was  thy  wrath  against  the  sea, 
that  thou  didst  ride  upon  thine  horses,  thy  chariots  of  salva- 
tion? thou  didst  walk  through  the  sea  with  thine  horses, 
through  the  heap  of  great  waters'  (Ps.  Ixviii. ;  Hab.  iii.)  'To 
him  that  overcometh  will  I  give/  to  the  soul  that  through 
grace  conquers  the  world  and  sin  and  Satan,  trampling  them 
under  foot  as  with  the  hoofs  of  a  triumphant  host;  to  the  soul 
that  overcomes  the  King  himself,  prevailing  over  him  when 
'the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take 
it  by  force.'  'Tell  me  where  thou  feedest,  else  I  will  not  let 
thee  go;'  'O  my  love,  thou  hast  overcome  me  (vi.  5),  and  to 
the  host  of  Pharaoh's  chariots  have  I  compared  thee.'  But 
specially  the  comparison  to  the  chariots  of  Pharaoh  has  im- 
mediate reference  to  their  swiftness.  The  trembling  followers 
of  the  cloudy  pillar  knew  it  in  the  day  when  they  pursued 
them  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  and  overtook  them  between  Baal- 
zephon  and  the  sea,  and  the  swiftness  of  Pharaoh's  horses  and 
chariots  became  for  ever  memorable  in  Israel.  'We  will  run 
after  thee'  said  the  Bride,  but  as  she  ran  her  Lord  seemed  to 
flee,  so  that  she  could  neither  overtake  him  with  her  footsteps 
nor  discern  him  now  with  her  eye.  But  his  right  hand  secretly 
upheld,  while  her  soul  followed  hard.  As  with  the  running 
of  footmen  she  had  pursued,  but  now  as  with  the  fleetness  of 
horses,  and  her  feet  like  the  hind's  on  the  high  places.  '  Making 
as  if  he  would  ha\^e  gone  further,'  yet  willingly  overtaken, 
Christ  yields  to  the  prayer  of  the  soul  that  cleaves  to  him  in 
faith  and  love;  and  commending  the  ardour,  the  swiftness,  and 
the  perseverance  of  her  pursuit  he  accosts  her,  'To  a  company 


138  THE   CHARIOTS   OF  PHARAOH.  CHAP.  I.  9. 

of  horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots  I  have  compared  thee,  O  my 
love.' 

Longlni^  soul,  go  thou  and  do  likewise,  and  thou  shalt  be 
upheld  by  the  same  almighty  arm,  arrive  at  the  same  result 
of  holy  rest,  and  receive  the  same  divine  commendation.  Was 
it  not  one  of  thy  fellow-virgins,  way-v/orn  and  weary,  that 
fainted  beneath  the  juniper-tree  and  desired  to  die;  yet  when 
the  chariot  of  Israel's  king  was  hasting  as  with  the  swiftness 
of  the  wind  from  the  blackening  tempest,  did  not  thy  God 
gird  him  so  with  strength  that  he  outran  the  horses  even  to  the 
gates  of  Jezreel?  And  was  this  not  a  typical  transaction  and 
achievement,  by  which  the  Lord  would  say  to  his  Bride  in  all 
generations,  'I  have  compared  thee,  O  my  love,  to  a  company 
of  horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots' — swift  above  all  the  chariot- 
steeds  of  earth?  Fear  not,  for  He  who  compares  thee  to 
Pharaoh's  chariots  doth  in  the  very  utterance  make  thee  such 
as  he  calls  thee;  it  is  the  King's  word,  not  of  acknowledg- 
ment only  but  of  command,  of  comparison  but  also  of  creation; 
and  as  it  proceeds  from  his  lips,  and  is  by  faith  received,  thou 
art  already  transferred  into  '  the  chariots  of  Pharaoh,"  and  ere 
long  thy  soul  also  will  make  itself  'like  the  chariots  of  Amrai- 
nadib'  (vi.)  There  is  this  idea  further  in  the  comparison  of 
the  Church  to  chariots  of  war — that  She  supplies  the  chariots 
which  the  Lord  employs  in  the  progress  and  in  the  conquest 
of  his  kingdom  on  earth;  nor  is  the  warlike  figure  at  all  in- 
consistent with  bridal  solemnities  and  joys.  The  King  to 
whom  the  Church  has  been  espoused  is  the  Captain  of  the 
Lord's  hosts — She  a  soldier's  Bride.  It  is  in  the  duration  of 
a  long  warfare,  and  in  the  heart  of  a  great  campaign,  that  the 
nuptials  have  been  celebrated ;  and  if  she  will  associate  with 
him  at  all,  she  must  accompany  him  forthwith  to  the  battle- 
field. 'Thou  art  ray  battle-axe  and  weapons  of  war,'  saith  he 
to  Jacob  (Jer.  li.  20);  and  of  'Judah,  the  Lord  hath  visited 
his  flock,  and  hath  made  them  as  his  goodly  horse  in  the  battle ' 
(Zech.  X.  3).  There  is  nothing  more  grateful  to  the  Redeemer 
than  that  the  Church  should  be  a  fellow-worker  with  him  in 
his  warfare,  presenting  herself  as  a  living  sacrifice,  making  lier- 
self  ready  as  swift  chariots,  and  as  chariot-wheels  that  tarry 


CHAP.  I.  10.  THE   CHAINS   OP   GOLD.  137 

not,  on  which  the  Lord  may  ride  forth,  conquering  and  to 
conquer.  Even  when  thou  hast  come  weary  and  heavy 
laden,  hast  run  beyond  thy  strength,  and  hast  found  rest  to 
thy  soul,  thou  maycst  not  tarry;  but  must  go  forth  again  as 
the  swift  messenger  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  with  warlike  energy 
and  zeal  for  the  triumph  of  peace  and  good-will  amongst  the 
sons  of  men. 

THE  CHAIKS  OF  GOLD. 

Thy  cheeks  are  comely  with  rows  of  jewels,  thy  neck  with  chains 
of  gold. — The  historical  reference  as  regards  the  national  Israel 
is  to  the  'jewels  of  silver  and  jewels  of  gold,'  which  they  wore 
as  the  divinely-given  spoil  of  the  Egyptians.  Seeking  the 
resting-place  of  the  great  Shepherd  they  had  followed  him 
through  the  deep,  and  in  triumphant  commendation  he  had 
compared  the  armies  of  Lsrael  to  the  engulfed  hosts  of  Pharaoh. 
Safe  on  the  further  shore  of  the  Red  Sea,  the  King  refers  to 
the  je\^els  which  were  borrowed  at  first,  but  were  now  their 
own  both  by  divine  and  human  right.  The  slaves  unjustly 
subjected  to  the  yoke,  had  borrowed  the  ornaments  just  as  they 
had  borrowed  the  three  days'  liberty,  and  both  wherewith  to 
to  keep  a  feast  to  their  God  in  the  wilderness.  The  treacherous 
tyrant  repenting  broke  faith,  came  forth  to  destroy  the  help- 
less multitude,  and  by  his  own  murderous  attempt  dissolved 
all  imjilied  obligation  to  return  in  their  own  persons,  or  with 
the  gold  and  silver  that  adorned  them.  Free  now  to  serve 
their  heavenly  King,  he  commends  their  inward  grace  under 
the  image  of  the  jewelled  bands  upon  their  brows,  and  the 
golden  chains  around  their  necks.  In  like  manner  the  presen- 
tation of  gold  by  the  Bride  from  the  tents  of  Kedar  in  the 
worship  of  the  Eastern  Sages,  as  well  as  the  personal  wearing 
of  jewels,  might  suggest  the  image  in  its  application  to  the 
New  Testament  Church. 

*Thy  cheeks  are  comely  with  rows  of  jewels,  thy  neck  with 
chains  of  gold.'  Thou  poor  slave-girl,  thou  hard-wrought 
dresser  of  the  vineyards,  thy  cheeks  were  burned  and  blackened 
by  the  mid-day  sun,  for  to  thee  it  was  not  given  to  rest  at 


138  THE   CHAINS   OF   GOLD.  CHAP.  I.  10. 

noon;  but  they  are  comely  now  through  thy  Saviour's  come- 
liness put  upon  thee.  Thou  hadst  lien  among  the  pots  and 
wast  begrimmed  with  their  soot,  but  now  thou  art  ^as  a  dove 
whose  wings  are  covered  with  silver  and  her  feathers  with 
gold.'  Thy  bread  was  eaten  with  the  sweat  of  thy  brow,  but 
thy  Lord  hath  Aviped  the  tears  from  thine  eyes,  and  the  sweat- 
drops  from  thy  forehead,  and  hath  adorned  thy  brows  with 
radiant  rows  of  jewels ;  with  the  precious  onyx  and  the  sapphire 
from  Hhe  land  that  is  very  far  of;'  with  heavenly  wisdom 
whose  price  is  above  rubies,  and  with  the  ^one  pearl  of  great 
price'  like  to  which  the  great  King  above  promises  none  other, 
and  equal  to  which  are  not  all  the  riches  of  his  kingdom.  Thy 
neck  was  scarred  with  the  iron  yoke,  while  serving  in  the  vine- 
yard not  thine  own,  when  thou  couldst  not  dig  and  wast 
ashamed  to  beg ;  it  was  compassed  also  with  pride  as  with  a 
chain,  thy  boast  and  thy  bondage  both ;  but  now  that  neck  is 
loosed  from  its  bands,  and  encircled  with  chains  of  gold,  with 
ornaments  of  grace. 

In  Haran  thus  i 

The  kindred  of  Eebekah  wondering  saw 
The  newly-given  splendour :  bracelets  rich 
Circled  her  arms;  and  pendant  on  her  face 
The  weighty  proof  of  Isaac's  bounty  shone, 
In  value  questionless.     And  could  she  doubt, 
Could  any  doubt  who  saw  her  decked  with  these, 
His  covenanted  love  and  bounteous  heart, 
Of  whom  they  were  the  sparkling  messengers? 

Meditations. 

They  are  the  free  gifts  of  thy  Redeemer  who  hath  delivered 
thee  from  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  from  the  house  of  bondage ; 
they  are  his  words  of  truth  which  have  set  thee  free,  Uhe  in- 
struction of  thy  father  and  the  law  of  thy  mother '  promised 
for  chains  about  thy  neck,  provided  for  thee  to  'tie  about  thy 
neck  continually'  (Prov.  i.  9;  vi.  21).  Thy  Lord  has  like- 
wise adorned  thee,  'not  with  the  wearing  of  gold,  but  in  the 
hidden  man  of  the  heart,  and  that  which  is  not  corruptible, 
with  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit  which  is  in  the 
sight  of  God  of  great  price.'  Instead  of  the  '  broidered  hair 
and  the  pearls  and  the  costly  array,'  which  were  but  badges 


CHAP.  I.  10.  THE   CHAINS   OF   GOLD.  139 

of  thy  bondage  to  the  worhl  and  Its  prince,  he  has  enabled 
thee  to  ^ adorn  thyself  with  shamefacedness  and  sobriety;  and, 
which  becometh  women  professing  godliness,  with  good  works' 
— not  servile  labors  but  works  really  good,  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit  through  Jesus  Christ  to  the  glory  of  God. 

Retrace  a  little  further  thy  history.  'Thy  birth  and  thy 
nativity  is  of  the  land  of  Canaan ;  thy  father  an  Araorite,  and 
thy  mother  a  Hittite'  (Ezek.  xvi).  Thou  wast  born  among 
the  sun-darkened  children  of  Ham,  in  their  land,  of  their  stock, 
beneath  their  curse  and  hereditary  bondage.  For  thyself 
'  thou  wast  cast  out  in  the  open  field,  to  the  loathing  of  thy 
person  in  the  day  thou  wast  born ;'  born  not  in  the  curtains  of 
Solomon,  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  but  in  the 
tents  of  Kedar;  and  thy  mother  that  bare  thee  cast  thee  out 
into  the  open  fields,  and  forsook  thee.  Thou  wast  'of  the 
works  of  the  law,'  but  the  law  that  bare  thee  could  neither 
'swaddle  thee'  nor  nurse  thee;  had  for  thee  no  eye  of  pity 
and  no  hand  of  help,  but  left  thee  to  perish  in  thy  sins.  'But 
I  passed  by  thee,  and  I  said  unto  thee,  Live — yea  I  said  unto 
thee  Live;  now  when  I  passed  by  thee  and  looked  upon  thee, 
thy  time  was  the  time  of  love ;  I  decked  thee  also  with  orna- 
ments, and  I  put  bracelets  upon  thy  hands,  and  a  chain  on  thy 
neck,  and  I  put  a  jewel  on  thy  forehead,  and  ear-rings  on  thine 
ears,  and  thou  wast  exceeding  beautiful.'  Plere  as  in  the  Song 
we  have  the  'chain  on  the  neck'  of  gold  or  of  gems,  for  in 
neither  is  the  material  specified;  and  we  have  the  'jewel  on 
the  forehead'  corresponding  to  the  'rows  of  jewels  on  the 
checks.'  But  in  Ezekiel  we  have  expressly  given  the  origin 
of  the  ornaments,  as  not  Zion's  own  in  herself  but  wholly  from 
her  God — 'thy  fair  jewels  of  my  gold  and  my  silver  which  I 
had  given  thee'  (verse  17);  and  the  character  likewise  of  the 
ornaments,  as  a  divine  beauty  moral  and  spiritual  like  Je- 
havah's  own  holiness — 'perfect  through  my  comeliness  which 
I  had  put  upon  thee'  (verse  14).  These  'rows  of  jewels  and 
chains  of  gold'  with  which  thou  art  adorned,  O  bride  of  the 
Lamb,  are,  then,  the  comeliness  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  freely 
imputed  to  thee  for  thine  own,  and  the  graces  of  the  Holy 


140  THE   BEAUTIFUL   CROWX.  CHAP.  I.  11. 

Spirit  fashioning  thee  into  some  resemblance  of  that  comeli- 
ness. 

But  while  the  king  describes  only  Zion's  glorious  adorning 
in  the  day  of  first  love,  the  prophet  fills  up  the  picture  with 
the  sad  disrobing  in  the  day  of  departure;  for  Solomon  sung 
of  the  marriage,  but  Ezekiel  bewailed  the  divorce.  Beware, 
then,  of  her  sin,  lest  thou  fall  after  the  same  example  of  unbe- 
lief; take  heed  that  thou  part  not  with  his  jewels  as  gifts  to 
all  thy  lovers,  employing  them  or  squandering  them  to  glorify 
the  world  or  thyself,  instead  of  jealously  guarding  them  as 
seals  of  the  covenant  of  thy  God  in  the  day  when  he  svv'aro 
unto  thee  and  thou  becamest  his ;  and  watch  also  lest  in  any 
way  thou  be  tempted  to  make  a  gain  of  godliness,  instead  of 
counting  godliness  itself  thy  gain.  If  thus  or  otherwise  thou 
dost  join  hands  again  in  'the  friendship  of  the  world,'  then, 
slowly  perhaps  yet  surely,  a  time  will  come  when  God  'will 
judge  thee  as  women  that  break  wedlock  are  judged,  take  thy 
fair  jewels,  and  leave  thee  naked,  because  thou  hast  not  re- 
membered the  days  of  thy  youth,'  nor  the  love  of  thine  es- 
pousals (Ezek.  xvi.  38,  39,  43). 

THE   BEAUTIFUL   CROWK. 

We  will  make  thee  borders  of  gold  uiith  studs  of  silver. — But 
who  will  make  them,  and  what  are  they  when  made?  It  is 
the  Bride  that  is  spoken  to,  the  King  that  speaketh,  and  to  be- 
lievers in  Christ  Jesus  there  is  nothing  strange  in  hearing  him 
say,  'We  will  make.'  The  Jews  acknowledged  God  as  their 
king,  and  Messiah  as  their  king,  and  to  both  these  kings  they 
refer  in  the  interpretation  of  this  book ;  but  they  did  not  know 
that  these  two  are  one,  for  they  owned  Messiah  to  be  God's 
son  only  by  adoption,  but  not  by  nature  which  alone  gives 
unity  (Lightfoot).  But  Solomon  elsewhere  asks,  What  is  his 
name,  or  what  is  his  Son's  name?  acknowledging  both  to  be 
alike  mysterious ;  and  he  describes  the  Wisdom  of  God,  which 
can  be  none  other  than  the  Eternal  Word,  'as  one  brought  up 
with  him,  rejoicing  always  before  him,  and  having  his  delights 
with  the  sons  of  men.'     His  fatiicr  David  in  like  manner  sings, 


CHAP.  I.  11.  THE   BEAUTIFUL    CROWN.  141 

'I  have  set  my  King  on  my  holy  hill  of  Zion,  this  day  have 
I  begotten  thee' — and  ^the  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou 
at  my  right  hand.'  AV^ithout  inquiring  what  amount  of  in- 
sight David  or  Solomon  had  into  the  plurality  of  persons  in 
the  Godhead,  or  into  the  union  of  divine  and  human  natures 
in  the  one  Messiah,  it  need  not  surprise  us  that  Solomon,  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  knowing  that  he  was  speaking  con- 
cerning God  and  the  Church,  should  employ  the  plural  num- 
ber, 'We  will  make;'  while  he  might  himself  be  compelled  to 
inquire  what  the  Spirit  that  Avas  in  him  did  signify.  Moses, 
narrating  the  first  creation,  had  recorded  the  mysterious  and 
instructive  counsel,  'Let  us  make  man  after  our  imasre;'  and 
Solomon  the  wisest  of  men,  speaking  of  the  new  creation,  re- 
cords the  not  dissimilar  divine  decree,  'We  will  make  thee 
borders  of  gold.'  The  King  in  his  own  person  on  earth  unites 
in  like  manner  his  own  name  with  his  Father's,  'If  a  man  love 
me,  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  ice  will  come  and  make  our 
abode  with  him.' 

All  grace  and  all  increase  of  grace  is  the  common  work  and 
united  gift  of  the  glorious  persons  of  the  Godhead.  'Of  his 
own  will  the  Father  begat  us;  created  anew  in  Christ  Jesus  ; 
born  of  the  Spirit;  every  good  gift  coraeth  down  from  the 
Father  of  lights — I  give  unto  them  eternal  life — He  shall 
take  of  mine  and  shall  show  it  unto  you.'  There  is  a  great 
concurrence  of  divines  that  such  is  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  in 
the  words  before  us.  'Borders  which  are  of  golde  We  Three 
will  make  for  thee,'  is  the  interpretation  of  one  of  the  best  of 
our  old  translators  of  the  Song  (Fenner).  To  him  that  hath 
shall  be  given,  is  the  promise,  and  he  shall  have  more,  he 
shall  have  abundance.  The  Bride  hath  already  '  rows  of  jewels 
and  chains,'  she  shall  now  receive  'borders  of  gold  with  studs 
of  silver.'  She  hath  grace,  which  through  grace  she  has  not 
lost  nor  lessened,  but  retained  and  used,  and  she  shall  have 
more  grace.  The  eye  attracteth  the  heart  even  of  the  Kino- 
and  Jesus  admiring  his  own  grace  in  the  believer,  is  moved  by 
the  sight  to  promise  its  increase.  'Thy  cheeks  are  comely 
with  rows  of  jewels,  thy  neck  with  chains  of  gold,  we  will 
make  thee' 


142  THE   BEAUTIFUL   CROWN.  CHAP.  I.  11. 

Borders  ofr/old  with  stmh  of  silver. — '  And  what  can  be  meant/ 
asks  a  distinguished  critic,  '  by  the  making  her  borders  of  gold 
with  studs  or  spots  of  silver,  which  should  be  more  valuable 
than  what  she  wore,  except  the  crown-royal;  something  su- 
perior is  visibly  intended,  and  what  other  ornament  of  mere 
gold,  or  gold  mixed  with  silver,  could  be  so  superior  as  to  be 
the  subject  of  this  Song?'  (Harmer.)  Understanding,  then, 
these  silver-studded  circles  of  gold  to  mean  either  the  royal  or 
then  uptial  crown,  or  both  in  one,  the  description  tallies  exactly 
with  that  of  Ezekiel,  'I  decked  thee  with  ornaments,  I  put  a 
chain  on  thy  neck,  and  a  jewel  on  thy  forehead,  and  a  beauti- 
ful crown  upon  thine  head ;  thus  wast  thou  decked  with  gold 
and  silver'  (xvi.  11-13).  It  is  pardon,  first,  and  reconciliation, 
it  is  saying  Live,  when  cast  into  the  open  field;  it  is,  next,  the 
ring  on  the  hand  and  the  shoes  on  the  feet,  or  in  Old  Testa- 
ment and  bridal  language,  'bracelets  on  the  wrists,  jewels  on 
the  forehead,  and  chains  around  the  neck;'  and  it  is,  finally, 
'the  beautiful  crown  upon  the  head.'  And  though  these  are 
all  given  in  the  first  hour  of  a  sinner's  acceptance,  yet  both 
the  sense  of  being  made  kings  and  priests  unto  God  may  follow 
after,  and  the  crown  itself  is  set  forth  as  an  object  of  desire  as 
well  as  of  possession — the  crown  of  righteousness  which  the 
Lord  will  give  on  that  day  to  all  them  that  love  his  appear- 
ing, 'the  borders  of  gold  with  studs  of  silver.'  'To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  give  to  sit  down  with  me  in  my  throne,' 
saitli  the  King ;  and  the  bride  hath  overcome,  hath  followed 
hard  after  him  with  feet  swifter  than  Pharaoh's  chariots,  hath 
overtaken,  and  her  Lord  now  saith  to  her,  'I  will  put  a  beauti- 
ful crown  upon  thy  head.' 

Bride  of  the  Lamb,  thou  didst  make  for  him  a  crown  of 
thorns,  its  ruby  studs  were  the  drops  of  his  own  blood,  and  lo, 
this  is  the  exchange  he  maketh  with  thee!  The  crown  had 
fallen  from  thy  head,  thy  gold  had  become  dim,  thy  fine  gold 
changed,  and  his  own  diadem  of  beauty,  his  own  fire-tried 
gold,  his  own  crown  of  righteousness,  he  putteth  upon  thee. 
This  crown  thou  hast  in  possession,  though  concealed  beneath 
thy  soldier's  helmet;  and  thou  hast  a  more  glorious  crown  in 
promise  when  the  battle  shall  have  been  fought  and  won,  to 


CHAP.  I.  11.  THE   BEAUTIFUL   CROWN.  143 

be  ojienly  given  thee  in  the  great  day — it  is  the  same  crown, 
but  publicly  and  for  ever  thine.  'Hold  fast  that  which  thou 
hast,  and  let  no  man  take  thy  crown.'  The  flesh  and  the  world 
and  the  devil  arc  striving  hard  either  to  wrench  it  or  to  filch 
it  from  thee,  but  hold  it  fast  and  let  no  man  take  it.  Hold  it 
fast  everywhere,  and  at  all  times  except  only  in  the  presence 
of  thy  King;  and  there  cast  it  at  his  feet,  for  none  dare  snatcli 
it  thence,  and  with  his  own  royal  hand  he  will  give  it  thee 
again,  weightier  and  brighter  than  when  thou  laidst  it  down. 
'Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  he  will  give  thee  a  crown 
of  life.' 


144  THE  SPIKENARD   AT  THE   FEAST.       CHAP.  I.  12-14. 


V. 

THE  SPIKENARD  AT  THE  FEAST,  THE  MYERH  IN  THE 
BOSOM,  THE  CAMPHIRE  IN  THE  VINEYARD. 

While  the  King  sittdh  at  his  table,  my  spikenard  sendeth  forth  the 
smell  thereof.  A  bundle  of  myrrh  is  my  well-beloved  unto  me;  he  [or 
rather,  it]  shall  lie  all  night  betwixt  my  breasts.  My  beloved  is  unto  me 
05  a  cluster  of  camphire  in  the  vineyards  of  En-gedi. — chap.  i.  12-14. 

THE  SPIKENARD  AT  THE  FEAST. 

While  the  king  sittdh  at  his  table,  or  while  the  king  is  'on  his 
circuit'  some  have  rendered  it,  'at  his  banquet'  others;  or 
rather,  as  an  old  translator  conveys  the  whole  idea,  'While 
the  king  sitteth  at  his  round  table,' — sitteth  or  reclineth  with 
his  guests  around  the  banquet  table.  In  the  hour  when  the 
Eternal  Word  was  made  flesh  and  Jesus  was  born  in  Bethlehem, 
because  there  was  the  King  of  kings,  there  also  was  the  king's 
palace  and  banquet-hall  and  guest  table.  Thither  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth  hastened  his  prepared  guests,  and  opened 
their  precious  caskets  of  frankincense  and  myrrh,  that  the 
chambers  of  the  Kino;  misrht  be  filled  with  the  costliest  odours 
that  earth  could  afford.  My  soul,  be  not  thou  the  last  to  follow 
the  example: 

See  how  from  far  upon  the  Eastern  road, 
The  star-led  wizards  haste  with  odours  sweet; 
O  run,  prevent  them  with  thy  humble  ode. 
And  lay  it  lowly  at  his  blessed  leet; 
Have  thou  the  honor  first  thy  Lord  to  greet. 

Hilton. 

This  table  is  the  same  as  David  describes  in  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm,  'Thou  preparest  a  table  before  me  in  tlie  presence 
of  mine  enemies,  thou  anointest  my  head  with  oil,  my  cup 
runneth  over.'     It  is  in  both  cases  a  table  in  the  midst  of  green 


^ 


CHAP.  I.  12.     THE   SPIKENARD  AT   THE   FEAST.  145 

pastures  where  the  flocks  are  feeding ;  a  table  under  the  cool 
shadow  where  the  chief  Shepherd  is  resting  at  noon;  a  table 
in  the  presence  of  enemies,  yet  replenished  with  an  overflowing 
cup  of  grace  and  of  gladness.  It  is  the  same  also  as  the  King 
himself  denotes  when  he  gives  the  promise,  'Behold  I  stand 
at  the  door  and  knock,  if  any  man  hear  my  voice  and  open 
the  door,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  sup  with  him  and  he  with 
me.'  It  is  the  communion  which  the  Lord  Jesus  holds  with 
his  saints  on  earth — not  merely  guiding  them  with  his  eye 
and  calling  to  them  with  his  voice,  not  only  meeting  with 
them  by  the  way — but  sitting  down  with  them  in  settled,  un- 
hasting,  quiet  fellowship  and  intimacy.  He  hid  his  face 
before  when  the  Bride  sought  him,  and  drew  back  as  she  drew 
nearer,  but  he  i|ow  sits  with  her  at  his  table  in  kindly  confi- 
dential intercourse.  While  on  earth  without  a  house  or  a 
table  of  his  own,  because  all  were  his.  He  ate  with  his  disciples 
and  with  strangers.  But  wherever  he  entered  as  guest  he  was 
still  the  acknowledged  King,  the  recognised  Lord  of  the  feast; 
the  table  was  still  regarded  as  his,  even  by  his  enemies;  and 
if  aught  displeased  them,  as  in  the  admission  of  sinners,  they 
looked  not  to  the  owner  of  the  house,  but  to  him,  that  it  might 
be  rectified.  But  most  of  all  it  was  his  table  wdiere  he  sat  as 
King,  when,  assembled  with  the  twelve,  he  said,  'Take  eat, 
this  is  my  body  which  is  broken  for  you ;  This  cup  is  the  new 
testament  in  my  blood,  drink  ye  all  of  it.'  There  the  man  of 
sorrows,  seated  at  the  lowly  board  in  the  upper  room,  said  to 
his  disciples  in  the  plenitude  of  regal  power, '  I  appoint  unto  you 
a  kingdom,  as  my  Father  hath  appointed  unto  me,  that  ye  may 
eat  and  drink  at  my  table  in  my  kingdom,  and  sit  on  thrones 
judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel.'  At  his  own  table  in  the 
sacramental  supper  he  still  sits  with  his  people,  sits  as  a  King 
among  them,  and  freely  confers  on  them  royal  favors,  king- 
doms, thrones,  and  sceptres  over  all  opposing  hosts.  But  in 
closest  friendship  he  is  still  our  Lord  and  Sovereign,  saying, 
'Ye  are  my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you.' 

3Iy  spihenard  sendeth  forth  the  smell  thereof,  for  as  the  fra- 
grance of  Christ's  grace  attracts  to  itself  every  believing  soul, 
so  the  presence  of  Christ  draws  forth  every  grace  that  is  in 


146  THE   SPIKENAED  AT   THE    FEAST.     CHAP.  I.  12. 

the  believer.  Repentance,  faith,  hope,  love,  gratitude,  joy, 
peace,  which  had  lain  cold  and  frozen  in  his  absence,  are  now 
drawn  out  toward  him,  as  to  the  source  whence  they  all  had 
flowed.  He  is  the  sun  that  melts  the  precious  uard  and  ex- 
tracts all  its  fragrance;  he  is  the  dew  or  the  gentle  shower  on 
the  aromatic  shrub,  that  diffuses  around  its  sealed  perfumes. 
Often  when  the  believer  imagines  that  he  has  no  grace  at  all, 
the  simple  presence  of  Jesus  raises  a  cloud  of  grateful  incense 
from  his  heart.  The  spikenard  exceeding  costly  is  closely  sealed 
within  the  alabaster,  the  stone  casket  alone  is  recognised,  and 
the  heart  doubts  if  there  be  aught  but  stone  within.  But  Jesus 
has  come,  the  willing  hands  break  the  alabaster,  and  the  goodly 
ointment  fills  all  the  house  with  its  odour.  'The  king  sitteth 
at  his  table,  and  my  spikenard  sendeth  forth  Ae  smell  thereof.' 
All  the  perfume,  however,  that  the  Bride  ever  brought  to 
Christ  on  earth,  was  the  material  ointment  which  the  herbs 
of  the  field  afforded ;  of  its  kind,  indeed,  exceeding  costly  and 
fit  for  royal  use,  still  only  of  earth.  Twice  she  poured  it  on 
his  feet  and  once  on  his  head  while  he  lived,  (though  two  of 
these  may  have  been  united  in  one,)  as  if  for  the  threefold 
unction  of  prophet,  priest,  and  king;  and  his  dead  body ^ she 
embalmed  and  imbedded  in  precious  odours.  But,  all  these 
anointings  only  signified  that  ho  is  'the  Lord's  Anointed,'  all 
whose  'garments  smell  of  myrrh,  aloes,  and  cassia,' the  fragrance 
from  whose  anointed  body  diffused  itself  around,  typical  of  the 
priceless  and  unmeasured  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  To 
this  therefore  it  amounts,  that  as  He  is  the  myrrh  in  the  bosom, 
and  the  camphire  cluster  in  the  vineyard,  so  is  he  also  the 
spikenard  at  the  table.  'His  name  is  as  ointment  poured  forth' 
even  in  his  absence  (3);  but  now  much  more  in  his  presence, 
the  fragrance  of  his  grace  and  truth  fills  all  the  table,  and 
rejoices  all  its  guests.  One  of  these,  referring  to  the  king's 
words,  'Ye  call  me  Master  and  Lord,'  thus  describes  the  joy 
of  that  presence : — 

How  sweetly  doth  My  Master  sound — My  Master! 

As  ambergris  leaves  a  rich  scent  unto  the  taster, 

So  do  these  words  a  sweet  content, 

An  Oriental  fragrancy — My  IMaster. 

With  these  all  day  I  do  perfume  my  mind. — Herbert, 


CHAP.  I.  13.  THE   MYRRH    IX   THE   BOSOM.  147 


THE   BUNDLE   OF   MYKlin   IX   THE   BOSOM. 

A  bundle  of  myrrh  is  my  well-beloved  unto  me,  he  [or  rather, 
it^  shallUe  all  night  beticixt  my  breasts;  for  though  the  original 
expresses  neither  but  leaves  it  open,  the  structure  of  the  pas- 
sage refers  it  to  the  myrrh.  He,  indeed,  is  the  bundle  of  myrrh, 
he  is  the  cluster  of  camphire;  but  as  it  is  the  cluster  that  is  in 
the  vineyard,  so  it  is  the  myrrh  that  is  in  the  bosom. 

A  bundle  of  mellifluous  myrrlie, 

Is  my  Beloved  best 
To  me,  which  I  will  bind  between 

My  breasts,  while  I  do  rest 
In  silent  slumbers. 

Trotli-pUght  Spouse. 

Nor  is  there  any  exclusive  reference  to  the  season  of  the  night, 
for  the  word  is  often  translated  dwell  or  lodge,  as  in  the 
tM'enty-fifth  Psalm,  'his  soul  shall  dwell  at  ease,  or  lodge  in 
goodness'  (marg.);  and  an  old  translator  of  the  Song  reiTclers 
it,  'a  little  bundell  made  of  myrrhe  which  doth  always  remain' 
(Fenner).  If  we  take  it  of  the  night,  it  is  the  entire  period 
of  darkness  till  the  dawn  of  endless  day.  Employing  the 
same  term,  the  Lord  asks  by  his  prophet,  'How  long  shall  vain 
thoughts  lodge  within  thee?'  Instead  of  vain  thoughts  which 
lodged  in  me  night  and  day,  and  would  have  dwelt  for  ever, 
this  bundle  of  myrrh,  saith  the  believer,  shall  now  lodge  in 
my  heart.  As  constantly  as  these  dwelt  within  me,  as  much 
room  as  they  occupied,  as  attractive  as  they  were,  such  and  far 
more  shall  my  Beloved  be,  such  and  far  more  shall  be  this 
])undle  of  myrrh  in  my  bosom.  Yet  myrrh  is  not  so  much  a 
flower  or  shrub  gathered  in  bundles,  as  a  fragrant  juice  col- 
lected in  drops,  and  a  bag  or  casket  of  myrrh  is  probably  the 
more  exact  idea: — 

As  myrrh  new  bleeding  from  the  tree, 
Such  is  a  dying  Christ  to  me ; 
And  while  he  makes  my  soul  his  guest, 
^  My  bosom,  Lord,  shall  be  thy  rest. —  Watts. 

Such  blessings  as  tliese,  believer,  are  thine  when,  through 
J 


148  THE    MYRRH    IX    THE    BOSOM.         CHAP.  I.  13. 

grace,  thou  biudest  this  bundle  of  myrrh  in  thy  bosom.  First, 
it  is  Christ  dwelling  in  thy  heart  by  faith,  in  thy  inmost  soul, 
in  the  inner  man,  in  the  secret  of  thy  mind  and  will.  Nothing 
more  inward  within  thee,  nothing  more  cherished  by  thee, 
nothing  more  fragrant  to  thee  than  thy  Well-beloved,  thy  Lord, 
thy  King,  thine  eternal  Bridegroom;  yet  the  same  whom  oneo 
thou  couldst  not  endure,  whom  thou  wouldst  give  no  place  in 
thy  bosom,  and  of  whom  thou  criedst,  'Away  with  him.'  Second, 
it  is  Christ  fragrant  to  the  soul  that  cherishes  him,  even  when 
not  expressly  seen  to  be  admired.  The  bundle  of  myrrh  in  the 
bosom  is  not  beheld  while  there,  it  was  seen  and  shall  be  seen 
again,  but  it  lodges  there,  cherished  yet  unseen.  So  is  Christ 
often  to  the  believing  soul,  not  rejected,  not  let  go,  but  held  fast 
in  the  heart  and  'his  death  borne  always  about  in  the  body;' 
though  in  the  multitude  of  employments  not  always  expressly 
looked  upon.  Blessed  it  is  to  bind  him  fast  in  the  bosom,  and 
blessed  to  find  him  there  when  we  seek  for  him  again.  Third,  it 
is  Christ  fragrant  all  the  night  to  the  soul  that  cleaves  to  him 
in  faith  and  love;  fragrant  to  the  soul  through  darkness  and 
fear,  fragrant  to  the  soul  when  the  senses  are  locked  in  slum- 
ber, and  breathing  fragrance  through  the  soul  with  the  first 
dawn  of  morning — a  bundle  of  myrrh  all  night  in  the  bosom. 
'My  son,  keep  thy  father's  commandment,  and  forsake  not 
the  law  of  thy  mother,  bind  them  continually  upon  thine  heart, 
and  tie  them  about  thy  neck.'  Like  this  bundle  of  myrrh  tie 
them  round  thy  neck,  like  this  bundle  of  myrrh  bind  them 
ever  in  thy  bosom;  and  'when  thou  goest  it  shall  lead  thee, 
when  thou  sleepest  it  shall  keep  thee,  when  thou  awakest  it 
shall  talk  with  thee'  (Prov.  vi.)  And  fourth,  it  is  Christ  in 
thee  fragrant  as  a  bundle  of  myrrh  to  all  around,  even  when 
thou  art  not  conscious  of  its  fragrance  for  thyself,  nor  aware 
of  its  fragrance  to  others.  If  thou  art  bearing  him  about  with 
thee  in  thy  bosom,  that  bundle  of  myrrh  between  thy  breasts 
will  be  always  and  in  every  place  unto  thee  'a  sweet  savour 
of  Christ,  in  them  that  are  saved,  and  in  them  that  perish'  (2 
Cor.  ii.  15).  How  blessed  to  be  ever,  consciously  or  unconscious- 
ly, a  savour  of  Jesus  Christ  to  men ;  how  much  more  blessed 
to  be  a  savour  of  Christ  unto  God  !     Such  thou  canst  only  be, 


CHAr.  I.  14.    THE  CAMPHIEE  TN  THE  VIXEyARD.  149 

and  such  certainly  thou  maycst  become,  by  taking  the  King 
for  a  bundle  of  myrrh  unto  thee,  to  lodge  always  within  thy 
breast : — 

From  this  enfolded  bundle  flies 

His  savour  all  abroad : 
Such  complicated  sweetness  lies 

In  my  Incarnate  God. — Erskine. 

THE  CAMPHIEE  IN  THE  VINEYARD. 

My  Beloved  is  unto  me  as  a  duster  of  camphire,  in  the  vine- 
yards of  En-gedi. — This  cluster  of  camphire  has  cost  the  critics 
incredible  pains  to  discover,  pains  which  in  many  instances 
would  have  been  more  profitable  in  searching  for  him  whom 
the  camphire  typifies.  Yet  in  all  labor  there  is  profit,  and 
there  is  instructive  information  in  the  following  words  of  a 
diligent  and  successful  inquirer  into  the  natural  productions 
described  in  Scripture.  The  camphire,  or  rather,  as  the  mar- 
gin renders  it,  the  Cypress,  '  is  now  generally  agreed  to  be  the 
Henna  of  the  Arabians.  The  deep  color  of  the  bark,  the  light 
green  of  the  foliage,  and  the  softened  mixture  of  white-yellow 
in  the  blossoms,  present  a  combination  as  agreeable  to  the  eye 
as  the  odour  is  to  the  scent.  The  flowers  grow  in  dense  clus- 
ters, the  grateful  fragrance  of  which  is  as  much  appreciated 
now  as  in  the  time  of  Solomon.  The  women  take  great  pleas- 
ure in  these  clusters,  hold  them  in  their  hand,  carry  them  in 
their  bosom,  and  keep  them  in  their  apartments  to  perfume  the 
air'  (Kitto). 

The  comparison  of  Christ  to  tlie  cluster  of  camphire  in  the 
vineyards  suggests  these  ideas,  ])esides  that  of  fragrance  com- 
mon to  it  and  to  the  myrrh :  First,  Christ  the  Beloved  is  re- 
presented full  of  attractive  beauty,  as  well  as  aromatic  fra- 
grance. Throughout  the  word,  every  sense  which  God  has 
o-iven  to  man  is  charged  to  yield  itself  as  a  channel  into  the 
soul  for  the  exhaustless  fulness  of  Jesus.  'Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God — hear  and  your  souls  shall  live — taste  and  see  that 
God  is  good — a  sacrifice  of  a  sweet-smelling  savour — that 
which  we  have  handled  of  the  word  of  life.'     So  here  the  Bride 


150  THE  CAMPHTEE  IX  THE  VINEYARD.   CHAP.  I.  14. 

is  not  satisfied  with  the  bundle  of  myrrh  in  the  bosom,  but 
must  also  have  the  rich  cluster  of  camphire  before  the  eye, 
that  she  may  appreciate  all  his  worth.  'Every  one  that  seeth 
the  Son  and  believeth  on  him  hath  eternal  life :'  '  let  us  run 
the  race  set  before  us  looking  unto  Jesus.'  Second,  there  is 
nothing  that  the  Eternal  Father,  or  the  Son  himself,  or  his 
ransomed  Bride  the  Church,  glories  in  more  than  the  oneness 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — '  the  only-begotten  Sou  of  the  Father, 
the  one  good  shepherd,  the  one  true  vine,  the  one  rose  of  Sha- 
ron, the  one  light  of  the  world,  the  one  servant  of  the  Father, 
the  one  sacrifice  for  sins,  the  one  way,  one  truth,  one  life.'  But 
iu  this  perfect  unity  there  is  a  fulness  so  exhaustless,  that 
the  Church  here  describes  it  by  a  rich  cluster  of  fragrant  flowers. 
The  cluster  is  one  in  its  undivided  integrity,  one  Beloved,  one 
Christ,  one  Son  of  the  living  God  and  Son  of  Man,  not  two 
clusters  but  one ;  but  the  cluster  is  manifold  in  its  beauteous 
blossoms,  for  innumerable  graces  crowd  harmoniously  to- 
gether in  the  Lamb  of  God.  The  faith  of  Abraham^  the  per- 
suasiveness of  Jacob,  the  meekness  of  Moses,  the  zeal  of  Elijah, 
the  holiness  of  Job,  the  love  of  John,  are  all  full  and  perfect 
in  him.  Truth,  righteousness,  wisdom;  love,  pity,  friendship; 
majesty,  might,  sovereignty;  lowliness,  patience,  faith;  zeal, 
courage,  holiness;  all  the  graces,  that  are  found  as  separate 
blossoms  in  saints  and  angels,  are  in  him  gathered  together  in 
one  rich  glorious  central  cluster,  the  admiration  and  the  at- 
traction of  the  universe  of  God.  Third,  This  cluster  of  cam- 
phire is  in  the  vineyards,  from  which  the  Greek  Fathers  take 
it  to  refer  to  the  'fruit  of  the  vine,  as  well  as  the  flower  of  the 
cypress.'  (Gregory,  etc.)  This  idea  we  are  unwilling  to  lose, 
because  the  connexion  is  so  constant  between  the  vine  and 
Christ;  and  not  only  so,  but  by  the  prophet  Isaiah  the  promised 
Seed  of  Jacob,  the  inheritor  of  the  holy  mountain,  is  expressly 
compared  to  the  'new  wine  found  in  the  cluster'  bringing  a 
blessing  to  the  elect  of  God  (Ixv.  8,  9).  The  vineyard  of  the 
Lord  of  hosts  had  brought  forth  only  wild  grapes,  and  there- 
fore he  declares  that  he  will  lay  it  waste  (Isa.  v).  But  before 
the  sentence  is  executed  there  springs  a  stem  out  of  Jesse,  a 
tender  plant  out  of  his  roots,  a  true  vine  with  a  cluster  of  rich 


CHAP.  I.  14.   THE  CAMPHIEE  IN  THE  VINEYAED.  161 

grapes,  and  when  the  other  babes  are  slain  in  Bethlehem  the 
command  is  issaed  'Destroy  it  not  for  a  blessing  is  in  it/  and 
for  its  sake  is  spared  the  remnant  according  to  the  election  of 
grace.     But  as  the  cluster  of  graces  in  the  Lord  Jesus  which 
we  have  already  noted,  may  be  applied  to  a  cluster  of  grapes 
quite  as  naturally  as  of  flowers,  Ave  shall  not  open  it  further ; 
but  rather  consider  the  circumstance  of  the  cluster  of  camphire 
beiuo-  in  the  vineyards  of  En-gcdi — a  rural  retreat  of  exquisite 
beauty.      The  spikenard  is  at  the  banquet;  the  bundle  of 
myrrh  is  night  and  day  in  the  bosom,  through  the  bustle  of 
business,  or  in  the  quietness  of  ordinary  rest;  but  the  cluster 
of  camphire  is  in  the  summer  seclusion,  and  in  the  heart  of  all 
that  is  most  attractive  in  nature.     In  the  midst  of  the  clustered 
vines,  and  of  the  aromatic  plants  with  their  odorous  gums  for 
which  En-gedi  was  famous,  this  cluster  of  camphire  is  at  once 
distinguished  by  its  fragrance,  and  conspicuous  for  its  beauty. 
But  the  vineyard  itself  is  embedded  in  all  that  is  lovely,  and  en- 
compassed by  all  that  is  grand  in  nature.    The  citron,  the  pome- 
granate, the  olive,  and  the  palm  in  the  warm  valley,— in  the  dis- 
tance, the  lofty  mountains— overhanging  the  bold  and  craggy 
rocks  of  the  wild  goats,— around,  the  deep  caves  where  David 
found  his  strongholds,  half  opening  their  dark  mouths  to  the 
light  of  heaven.     No  book  of  man  sets  forth  the  beauties  of  this 
earth  like  the  book  of  God,  and  no  child  of  man  enjoys  those 
beauties  like  the  child  of  God.     Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  green 
earth,  and  blue  sea;  the  everlasting  hills,  the  ever-rolling  rivers; 
the  cedars  of  Lebanoii,  and  the  oaks  of  Bashau ;  the  birds  that 
sino'  among  the  branches,  the  thunders  that  peal  around  the 
heavens;  all  have  their  sweet  attractions  to  the  unstopped  ear 
and  the  opened  eye  of  the  heir  of  heaven.     But  in  the  midst 
of  all— in  the  very  vineyards  ol  En-gedi— the  Well-beloved 
is  to  him  the  one  cluster  of  camphire  of  which  all  these  are 
only  the  rough  footstalk.     Sometimes  it  is  in  contrast  to  them 
all,  finding  them  all  empty  and  vain,  and  turning  to  him  for 
relief;  sometimes  it  is  in  union  with  them  all,  admiring  all, 
enjoying  all,  loving  all,  yet  counting  all  loss  for  the  excellency 
of  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ. 

But  is  there  no  Bride  of  Christ  to  whom  he  is  spikenard  at 


152  THE  CAMPHIRE  IN  THE  VINEYAED.     CHAP.  I.  14. 

his  table ;  to  whom  through  the  course  of  the  year  he  is  a  bundle 
of  myrrh  in  the  bosom ;  but  who  in  the  season  of  relief  and 
relaxation,  in  the  unbending  of  the  mind,  and  the  invigoration 
of  the  frame  amid  the  beauties  of  nature,  cannot  aver,  'My 
Beloved  is  unto  me  as  a  cluster  of  camphire  in  the  vineyards 
of  En-gedi '  ?  Be  sure  of  this,  that  the  loss  of  Christ  is  never 
gain  ;  that  no  circumstances  require  the  sacrifice  of  Christ;  and 
that  in  the  absence  of  Christ  from  any  scene  there  is  the  blank 
of  its  essential  joy.  But  there  are  many  more — not  indeed  of 
the  righteous  or  the  upright — but  creatures  and  subjects  of 
God,  and  not  ignorant  of  the  fact  of  his  Son's  crucifixion  on 
Calvary,  who  derive  much  joy  from  the  work  of  his  hands, 
and  have  never  rejoiced  in  the  Lord  himself;  who  discern  the 
beauties  of  En-gedi,  but  have  never  discovered  its  Cluster  of 
Camphire,  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men  ;  who  search  all  nature's 
secrets,  but  never  enter  the  secret  of  Jehovah's  tabernacle,  nor 
inquire  within  his  hidden  holy  place. 

The  fleet  astronomer  can  bore 
And  thread  the  spheres  with  his  quick-rpiercing  mind; 
He  views  their  stations,  walks  from  door  to  door ; 

Surveys  as  if  he  had  design'd 
To  make  a  purchase  there. 

The  nimble  diver  with  his  side, 
Cuts  through  the  working  waves  that  he  may  fetch 
His  dearly-earned  pearl,  which  God  did  hide 

On  purpose  from  the  venturous  wretch. 

The  subtle  chemist  can  dissect 
And  strip  the  creature  naked,  till  he  find 
The  callow  principles  within  their  nest. — 
What  hath  not  man  sought  out  and  found, 

But  his  dear  God?  —Herbert. 


ClIAr.  T.  15-17.  THE  GREEN   COUCH.  153 


VI. 

THE  GREEN  COUCH  OF  THE  SHEPHERD  KING. 

Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love,  behold  thou  art  fair;  thou  hast  doves' 
eyes.  Behold  thou  art  fair  my  Beloved,  yea  pleasant:  also  our  bed  [or 
couch]  is  green.  The  beams  of  our  house  are  cedar,  and  our  rafters  of 
fir.— Chap.  i.  15-17.  * 

Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love,  behold  thou  art  fair ;  thou  hast 
doves'  eyes. — 'I  am  black,  for  the  sun  hath  looked  on  me,  I 
am  black,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem.'  'Thou  art  fair  my 
love,  behold  thou  art  fair.'  'We  have  sinned  and  have  com- 
mitted iniquity,  and  have  done  wickedly,  and  have  rebelled 
even  by  departing  from  thy  precepts  and  from  thy  judgments,' 
is  the  true  confession  of  the  Church — 'I  have  given  them  thy 
word,  and  they  have  kept  thy  word,'  is  the  pleading  of  their 
great  advocate,  for  he  seeth  no  iniquity  in  Jacob  nor  perverse- 
ness  in  Israel.  Behold  thou  art  fair,  and  the  secret  of  the 
beauty  is  found  in  this — 'thou  hast  doves'  eyes;'  eyes  chaste 
and  constant,  for  of  chastity  and  constancy  doves  are  the  com- 
mon emblems.  'I  have  espoused  you,'  said  one  of  the  bride- 
groom's friends,  'unto  one  Husband,  that  I  may  present  you 
as  a  chaste  virgin  to  Christ.'  This  virgin's  eyes  are  not  wan- 
dering like  the  fool's  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  but  are  fixed 
steadfastly  on  Jesus.  Thence  all  her  beauty  is  derived,  for 
*if  the  eye  be  single  the  whole  body  is  full  of  light,'  and  full 
therefore  also  of  beauty;  but  'if  the  eye  be  double  the  body 
is  full  of  darkness,'  and  full  likewise  of  deformity.  He  that 
hath  an  eye  for  anything  equally  with  Christ  hath  no  comeli- 
ness in  his  sight;  'he  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than 
me  is  not  worthy  of  me.'  The  eye  that  looks  elsewhere  is  the 
eye  that  otFends,  and  is  good  for  nothing  but  to  be  plucked  out 
and  cast  away;  the  eye  that  looks  back  while  the  hand  is  on 
the  plough  is  not  lit  for  the  kingdom,  and  shall  never  see  the 


154  THE   GREEN   COUCH  CHAP.  I.  10. 

Kiu<^;  the  backward  glance  on  the  lovely  plain  forfeits  the 
life,  in  losing  the  love  of  theiife-giver.  But  'blessed  are  the 
pure  in  heart  for  they  shall  see  God';  blessed  the  racers  that 
look  fixedly  on  Jesus;  blessed  'the  eyes  of  doves'  in  the  soul, 
for  then  the  whole  form  is  fair,  the  whole  person  beloved. 

Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved. — The  beauty  is  not  in  me 
but  in  thee,  for  I  am  not  fair  in  myself;  if  I  am  fair,  my  come- 
liness is  all  from  thee,  and  all  in  thee,  and  therefore  is  no 
glory  of  mine.  But  thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved;  in  thyself,  and 
not  in  another ;  fair  without  any  abatement  or  detraction ; 
thou  art  fair  altogether,  thdfi  art  fair  always,  and  thou  alone 
art  fair.  'The  Bridegroom  to  us  believing  is  everywhere 
beautiful,'  saith  the  Bride,  in  words  not  inspired,  yet  true; 
'He  is  fair  in  heaven,  fair  on  earth ;  fair  in  the  virgin's  womb, 
fair  in  the  arms  of  his  parents;  fair  in  his  miracles,  fair  in  his 
stripes;  fair  when  calling  unto  life,  fair  when  disregarding 
death;  fair  in  laying  down  his  life,  fair  in  receiving  it  again; 
fair  on  the  cross,  fair  in  the  sepulchre.'  (Augustine.) 

Yea  pleasant. — Fair  without  being  pleasant  the  sons  of  men 
often  are ;  pleasant  also  in  measure  they  may  be  without  being 
altogether  fair;  but  Jesus  is  both,  and  in  both  he  is  perfect. 
Pleasantness  implies  a  peculiar  fitness  to  yield  a  resting-place 
for  the  soul,  as  distinguished  from  the  excellence  which  ex- 
cites mere  admiration,  or  even  from  that  which  awakens  love. 
It  is  found  in  the  good  man,  for  whom  peradventure  some 
would  even  dare  to  die;  but  not  in  the  just  man,  for  whom 
men  would  scarcely  die.  The  word  is  used  to  describe  the 
sweet  and  solemn  melodies  of  the  sanctuary — 'sing  praises  to 
him  because  it  is  pleasant;'  the  aflFectionate  union  of  brethren, 
— 'behold  how  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in 
unity;'  and  the  agreeableness  of  a  chosen  earthly  friend,  closer 
than  a  brother, — 'very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me,  O 
Jonathan.'  Even  such  a  delight,  such  a  quiet  rest  and  repose 
of  soul,  do  the  redeemed  Church  and  the  ransomed  soul  find 
in  the  Kinsman  Redeemer.  Behold  thou  art  fair,  yea  pleasant ; 
pleasant,  acceptable,  suitable,  refreshing;  so  that  all  else  in 
comparison  are  displeasing,  harsh,  and  nngenial.  Thou  art 
pleasant,  and  thou  alone,  invariably  and  altogether  pleasant; 


CHAP.  T.  16.  OF   THE   SHEPHERD   KING.  155 

pleasant  in  the  diseovcrics  of  thyself  here,  and  at  thy  right 
hand  arc  pleasures  for  evermore. 

Also  our  bed  is  green. — Our  translators  render  it  bed,  for 
want  both  of  a  precise  English  word  to  express  the  idea,  and 
of  an  English  usage  corresponding  to  the  Eastern  word.  It 
is  the  same  as  the  bed  whereon  Esther  sat  or  reclined  at  the 
banquet  of  wine  with  the  king  and  Ha  man ;  and  is  here  the 
sofa  or  couch  on  which  the  Great  King  sitteth  with  the  Bride 
at  his  table  (12).  If  wc  understand  the  supposed  scene  to  be 
now  a  palace,  then  this  couch  is  green,  being  strewed  with 
flowers  and  green  leaves  as  for  a  marriage-feast;  or  if,  rather, 
we  still  take  it  of  rural  imagery,  then  the  couch  is  the  green 
grass  on  which  the  Shepherd  King  reposes,  and  where  he 
spreads  his  table.  'Tell  me,  O  thou  whom  my  soul  loveth, 
where  thou  feedest  thy  flock,  and  where  thou  niakest  it  to  rest 
at  noon.'  The  prayer  has  been  answered,  the  feeding  of  the 
flock  has  been  found,  the  shepherd's  resting-place  discovered. 

Those  pastures  are  green  and  plenteous  into  which  the  Lord 
leads  his  sheep,  as  David  gratefully  confesses,  'he  maketh  me 
to  lie  down  in  green  pastures ;'  and  the  good  Shepherd's  rest 
at  noon  is  not  less  green  and  refreshing,  as  the  Bride,  having 
found  it,  acknowledges.  The  spirit  of  man  wanders  through 
dry  places  seeking  rest  and  finding  none;  through  the  parched 
wilderness  the  weary  soul  wanders  till  it  hears  the  sound  'this 
is  the  rest  and  this  is  the  refreshing' — yea,  till  the  good  Shep- 
herd with  irresistible  persuasion  makes  it  lie  down  in  green 
pastures  and  beside  still  waters.  In  southern  countries  the 
water  is  ever  the  source  of  the  verdure ;  and  if  there  is  in  the 
desert  a  spring  of  water  whose  waters  fa  il  not,  around  it  there 
is  ever  spread  a  carpet  of  brightest  green.  The  pilgrim  Bride 
of  the  Lamb  has  sought  him  long  and  earnestly,  in  solitude 
she  has  crossed  the  burning  sands  in  the  eager  pursuit,  tents 
resembling  his  she  has  seen  in  the  wilderness,  but  on  approach- 
ing and  entering  she  has  found  them  only  the  tents  of  his 
companions.  She  is  afraid  of  another  fruitless  attempt,  and 
before  running  with  hasty  feet  she  prays  with  a  loud  cry, 
'Tell  me  where  thou  reslest  at  noon.'  Her  feet  sore  with 
crossing  the  broiling  sand,  her  throat  parched  with  calling 


166  THE   GEEEX  COUCH  CHAP.  I.  16. 

upon  One  who  answers  not,  her  eye  failing  with  looking  long, 
she  hears  him  speak  at  last, — 'O  my  love!'  She  beholdy  him 
near,  she  sees  a  green  oasis  in  the  desert  with  a  banquet  pre- 
pared, a  table  spread,  and  in  the  fulness  of  her  heart  she  ex- 
claims 'How  pleasant  art  thou,  my  Beloved,  how  green  is  our 
couch!'  How  oft  the  soul,  finding  rest  in  Jesus,  has  addressed 
him  with  words  like  these!  It  is  no  prayer,  and  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm  is  no  prayer,  and  contains  not  a  single  petition; 
neither  is  there  formal  praise  in  'his  resting-place  is  green/ 
but  it  is  exactly  in  the  grateful  and  congratulatory  strain  ot 
that  Psalm, — 'he  leadeth  me  into  green  pastures,  hespreadeth 
a  table  before  me.'  It  is  a  friend  found  by  one  who  was  friend- 
less before;  it  is  living  water  springing  up  for  one  who  was 
parched  and  perishing  till  now ;  it  is  a  green  oasis  discovered 
by  one  whose  weary  eye  had  never  in  this  world  till  now  lighted 
on  a  spot  of  beauty  and  verdure.  Ah !  brother,  sister,  hast 
thou  seen  it?  There  is  even  for  thee  a  green  spot  on  earth  if 
thou  wilt  seek  it,  as  verdant  as  around  the  fountain  of  life  in 
the  paradise  above.  It  is  the  good  Shepherd's  noontide  rest. 
'Heavy  laden'  and  hopeless  thou  art,  seeking  peace  afar  oflPand 
passing  him  who  is  near ;  like  Hagar  in  the  desert,  with  the 
last  drop  drained  from  the  now  shrivelled  water-skin,  thou  art 
ready  to  lie  down  and  die.  But  open  thine  ears  and  thou  wilt 
hear  one  say,  'Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give  you  rest';  open 
thine  eyes  and  thou  wilt  see  the  well  and  the  green  sward 
around  it;  and  with  a  full  heart  thou  wilt  answer  him,  'Be- 
hold thou  art  pleasant,  also  our  couch  is  green.' 

In  the  historical  sketch  we  have  given  of  this  wondrous 
song,  we  have  supposed  a  literal  resting-place  of  the  Babe  of 
Bethlehem  and  his  parents  on  the  grass  provided  for  the  cattle. 
If  ever  there  was  joy  or  thankfulness  on  earth,  it  must  have 
been  under  that  humble  roof,  'the  soul  magnifying  the  Lord, 
and  the  spirit  rejoicing  in  the  Saviour'  with  such  fulness  of 
heart  as  could  not  fail  to  transform  the  lowliest  circumstances 
into  sources  of  gratitude  and  emblems  of  beauty.  That  Infant, 
'  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men,'  the  smiling  light  upon  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  new-born  'Prince  of  Peace,'  the  hope  that  illu- 
mined his  features  as  he  hung  '  upon  his  mother's  breasts,'  the 


CHAP.  I.  16.  OF   THE   SIIErilEIlD   KING.  157 

radiance,  more  ImvarJly  felt  by  the  onlookers  than  outwardly 
seen,  that  beamed  from  the  brightness  of  Godhead  dwelling  in 
the  Babe — could  not  but  elicit  the  wondering  exclamation, 
'Behold  thou  art  fair!'  If  the  infant  Moses,  through  whom 
was  to  come  the  fiery  law,  was  a  goodly  child  and  'exceeding 
fair,'  how  much  more  'that  Holy  Thing  born  of  Mary  full  of 
grace  and  truth,  and  fairer  than  the  children  of  men'!  As 
they  took  him  up  in  their  arms  and  blessed  God,  and  looked 
upon  'the  pleasant  child,'  jihey  could  not  refrain  from  adding 
'yea  pleasant;'  and  while  they  rested  together  with  him  on 
their  lowly  couch,  all  images  of  beauty  would  spring  up  in 
their  souls,  and,  for  from  murmuring'  at  their  lot,  the  mother's 
joyful  heart  would  exclaim,  'also  our  bed  is  green.' 

But  the  acceptance  of  this  idea  does  not  in  the  least  pre- 
clude, but  only  opens  the  door  for  every  just  application  of  the 
words.  The  first  bed  and  the  last,  the  narrow  cradle  and  the 
narrow  grave,  are  oft  conjoined  in  all  men's  thoughts;  but  in 
the  case  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  two  are  akin  in  a  manner  al- 
together peculiar. 

The  Babe  yet  lies  in  smiling  infancy 
That  on  the  bitter  cross 
Must  redeem  our  loss, 

So  both  himself  and  us  to  glorify. — Mlton. 

Christ  took  human  nature  for  the  purpose  of  dying — 'ready 
to  die  from  his  youth  upward.'  It  was  'the  Lamb  of  God,' 
the  sacrificial  Lamb,  that  was  laid  on  the  'green  couch'  in  the 
manger  of  Bethlehem;  but  his  rocky  bed  on  Calvary  was 
already  prepared  of  God. 

Twice  only  are  the  curtains  drawn  from  around  the  sleep, 
or  the  sleeping-place,  of  Jesus  on  earth, — thrice,  perhaps  Ave 
should  rather  say,  for  we  read  of  his  deep  repose  upon  the 
pillow  in  the  sinking  ship.  Saving  that,  however,  the  chamber 
or  the  bed  whereon  he  slept  is  never  unveiled  to  our  eyes  ex- 
cept in  his  cradle  and  in  his  grave;  and  each  time  the  curtain 
in  drawn  for  us  by  the  hand  of  angelic  ministers — alike  from 
a.round  his  first  bed  and  his  second,  as  if  there  were  none  be- 
tween.    'Ye  shall  find  the  babe  lying  in  a  manger,'  said  an 


158  THE   GREEN   COUCH  CHAP.  I.  17. 

angel  to  the  shepherds  in  Bethlehem;  'Come  sco  the  place 
where  the  Lord  lay/  said  the  same  or  another  angel  to  the 
mourning  women  at  the  sepulchre.  The  lowly  manger  is  ours 
as  well  as  his,  for  in  the  hour  in  which  he  was  cradled  there, 
we  were  'members  of  his  flesh,  of  his  body,  and  of  his  bones'; 
and  truly  there  'our  bed  is  green,'  full  of  hope,  of  life,  of  im- 
mortality. The  cold  bed  of  earth  is  ours  as  well  as  his,  for 
we  have  been  'buried  along  with  him';  and  this  bed  of  his, 
this  'bed  of  ours,  is  green,'  for  in  it  'we  are  planted  together 
with  him  in  the  likeness  of  his  death,'  that  we  might  spring 
up  together  with  him  'in  the  likeness  of  his  resurrection.'  All 
else  besides  is  black  earth,  dead  mould,  barren  sand ;  there  is 
in  it  all  no  living  seed,  no  root,  no  blade.  But  this  'corn  of 
wheat  hath  been  cast  into  the  ground  to  die,'  in  the  same  seed- 
bed have  all  believers  been  'planted,'  and  that  bed  is  now 
'green'  with  the  innumerable  blades  of  a  joyful  resurrection 
from  the  dust  of  death. 

Yea  the  dark  grave  is  liglitened  by  the  thought, 
That  in  the  lonely  rock  of  Calvary, 
Thy  sacred  body  had  its  silent  rest; 

— whence  thou  didst  rise, 
As  from  bare  grain  the  fi-c.shly  springing  herb. 

Now  cheerful  Hope 
Decks  with  strange  garlands  the  believer's  grave, 
Gathering  her  verdant  buds,  O  Lord,  from  thine. 
Our  bed  is  green;  yes  though  the  worm  be  there, 
It  preys  but  on  the  curtains  of  a  tent 
The  pilgrim  hath  abandoned. — Meditations. 

The  beams  of  our  house  are  cedar,  and  our  rafters  of  fir. — 
"What  these  beams  and  rafters  are  according  to  the  letter,  de- 
pends on  whether  the  scene  is  still  to  be  regarded  as  external 
and  rustic,  or  the  interior  of  the  palace.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  'banqueting-house,'  a  few  verses  onward,  is 
within  the  palace  of  the  great  King,  but  it  is  difficult  to  mark 
the  moment  of  transition.  The  '  beams  of  cedar  and  rafters  of 
fir'  agree  well  with  the  attraction  and  beauty  of  royal  residence, 
or  rather,  with  the  temple  of  God  itself  at  Jerusalem,  which 
was  the  earthly  palace  of  the  King  of  heaven;  and  taken  in 


CHAP.  I.  17.  OF   THE  SilEPUEED   KIXQ.  159 

connexion  with  the  subsequent  verses,  the  whole  scene  accords 
Avitii  the  ])rcsentrition  of  the  chikl  Jesus  in  the  temple  of 
Jehovali,  and  the  joy  of  the  liitic  flock  assembled  round  tlio 
infant  'Shepherd  of  Isi'ael' — the  'two  or  three  gathered  to- 
gethci',  with  Jesus  in  the  midst  of  them.'  Agreeably  witli 
this  interpretation,  the  Avords  are  well  applied  to  all  the  assem- 
blies of  the  saints;  for 

No  beams  of  cedar  or  of  fir 
Can  yith  thy  courts  on  earth  compare; 
And  here  we  wait  until  thy  love 
Eaise  us  to  nobler  seats  above. —  Watfs. 

With  this  agrees  the  interpretation  of  the  Chaldee  paraphrast: — 
'Solomon  the  prophet  said,  How  fair  is  the  house  of  the  Sanc- 
tuary of  the  Lord,  which  is  built  by  my  hands  of  cedar  wood ! 
but  fairer  shall  be  the  house  of  the  Sanctuary  which  shall  be 
built  in  the  days  of  the  King  Messiah,  whose  beams  shall  be 
of  the  cedars  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  its  rafters  of  the 
brutine  tree,  the  fir,  and  the  box.' 

On  the  other  hand,  the  grassy  carpet  of  the  verse  preceding 
implies,  that  the  shepherdess  bride  had  discovered  the  tent  of 
the  Shepherd  King  from  among  all  the  tents  of  his  companions; 
and  if  within  that  tent  the  outward  figure  is  still  preserved,  it 
is  the  glory  of  the  King  himself  that  transforms  its  supporting 
stakes  into  cedar  beams,  and  its  cords  and  curtains  into  cielino- 
wood-work.  Or  if  the  idea  that  has  found  most  acceptance 
with  modern  critics  be  preferred,  the  imaginary  scene  is  a 
royal  bower  with  living  cedars  for  its  walls,  with  intertwining 
firs  for  its  roof,  and  a  carpet  of  grass  beneath ;  such  as  Milton 
describes  in  Paradise  Lost: 

The  roof 
Of  thickest  covert  was  inwoven  shade, 
Laurel  and  myrtle,  and  what  higher  grew 
Of  firm  and  fragrant  leaf;  on  either  side 
Acanthus,  and  each  odorous  bushy  shrub 
Fenced  by  the  verdant  wall. 

But  whichever  of  these  ideas  may  be  adopted  regarding  the 
letter  of  the  image,  the  spiritual  and  real  idea  is  the  beauty, 


160  THE   GEEEN   COUCH  CHAP.  I.  17. 

the  fragrance,  and  the  durability  of  the  house  in  which  Christ 
dwells  with  his  people.  It  is  'the  temple  of  Christ's  body/ 
more  durable,  more  beautiful,  and  more  fragrant  than  that 
which  was  built  of  the  cedar  of  Lebanon;  it  is  the  Church, 
'the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,'  in  which  he  'abides'  with  his 
chosen,  '  the  new  creation,'  the  glorious  living  work  of  his 
hands,  'the  trees  of  righteousness,  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  which 
he  hath  planted';  it  is  'the  congregation  of  his  saints'  where 
'  brethren  dwell  together  in  unity,'  and  beautiful  beyond  all 
that  earth  can  afford,  either  in  the  bowers  of  nature  or  the 
palaces  of  art;  and  it  is  'the  house  of  God  eternal  in  the 
heavens,'  such  as  earthly  'eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
nor  hath  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  but  prepared  for  all 
them  that  love  him,'  and  sinking  into  mere  hovels  all  the  royal 
palaces  of  earth  in  comparison. 

But  not  the  least  remarkable  feature  of  the  picture  is,  that 
the  Bride  herself  dares  to  call  it  'our  house,  our  beams,  our 
rafters.'  Because  they  are  Christ's,  and  because  Christ  is  hers 
and  she  is  his,  all  that  she  hath  is  his,  and  all  that  he  hath  is 
hers.  Is  it  thy  house  on  earth,  believer?  then  it  is  Christ's, 
and  thou  canst  say  it  is  'ours';  is  it  Christ's  house  on  earth? 
then  it  is  thine,  and  addressing  him  thou  canst  call  it  'ours.' 
In  that  better  country  whither  he  hath  gone  to  prepare  a  place 
for  thee,  it  is  indeed  his  Father's  house  and  his  own,  yet  within 
the  spacious  palace  is  a  mansion  for  thee,  tliy  mansion,  thy 
palace,  thy  house;  'that  which  is  thine  own,'  thy  Lord  hath 
called  it;  thine  own  and  not  another's,  'preparedfor  thee  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world.'  Yet  were  it  thine  exclusively, 
it  would  be  joyless  for  thee,  but  it  is  his  house  as  well  as  thine; 
he  hath  bought  it  for  thee  with  his  own  blood;  with  that 
blood  he  sprinkled  its  lintels  and  door-posts  when  he  went  'to 
prepare  the  place  for  thee';  and  when  he  shall  bring  thee  into 
it,  he  shall  'receive  thee  to  himself  for  ever.  There,  holding 
sweet  fellowship  with  him  and  he  with  thee,  thou  shalt  say, 
'Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  Beloved,  yea  pleasant;  how  amiable 
are  thy  tabernacles,  how  lovely  is  thy  dwelling-place;  the 
beams  of  our  house  are  cedar,  and  our  rafters  are  fir/ 


CHAP.  II.  1-3.  THE   ROSE  OE   SHAKOX.  161 


VII. 

THE  EOSE  OF  SHARON  AND  THE  LILY  OF  THE  VALLEYS 

—THE  LILY  AilONG  THORNS— THE  APPLE-TREE  IN 

THE  WOOD. 

I  am  tlic  rose  of  Sharon,  and  the  lily  of  the  valleys.  As  the  lily  among 
thorns,  so  is  my  love  among  the  daughters.  As  the  apple-tree  among 
the  trees  of  the  wood,  so  is  my  beloved  among  the  sons.  I  sat  down  un- 
der his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  ivas  sweet  to  my  taste. — 
Chap.  ii.  1-3. 

I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valleys. — Words 
most  seemly  in  the  lips  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  it 
is  not  robbery  from  others,  but  condescension  and  grace,  to 
commend  hiinsclf  to  the  sons  of  men.  'I  am  meek  and  lowly' 
would  be  the  utterance  of  pride  in  the  lips  of  Gabriel,  but  is 
humility  from  the  lips  of  Jesus,  who  has  stooped  that  he  might 
become  meek  and  lowly.  '  I  am  the  true  vine,  I  am  the  good 
shepherd,'  is  the  expression  alike  of  truth  and  of  grace ;  and 
so  'I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valleys.' 
Some,  indeed,  take  these  to  be  the  words  of  the  Bride,  for  there 
is  here  no  grammatical  construction  to  mark  the  person  who 
speaks.  But  our  translators  have  evidently  referred  them  to 
the  King,  and  with  good  reason.  In  the  Old  English  Bibles 
the  verse  is  entitled,  ^The  voice  of  Christ;'  and  'The  Bride- 
groom '  in  the  French,  Italian,  and  Portuguese  Bibles ;  and  this 
interpretation  has  the  sanction  of  the  earliest  of  the  Greek 
fathers.  (Orig.,  Theod.)  The  reference  to  the  Bride  is  advo- 
cated, by  no  means  exclusively,  yet  principally,  by  the  literal 
interpreters,  and  on  ground  which  is  quite  untenable.  They 
render  the  words,  I  am  a  rose  of  the  field  ;  and  receive  them 
as  the  Bride's  humble  account  of  herself,  as  a  mere  wild  rose 
in  contrast  with  the  nobler  flowers  of  the  garden.  But  there 
is  not  a  single  passage  in  the  whole  Hebrew  Bible  in  which 
the  word  here  employed  signifies  'field,'  but  invariably  Sharon; 
which  not  only  justifies,  but  necessitates,  an  adherence  to  the 
received  translation  (Gesenius).  This  settles,  as  appears  to  us, 
the  question  of  the  person  speaking,  because  Sharon  in  Scrip- 


162  THE    ROSE    OF    SHAROX.  CHAP.  II.  1, 

ture  Is  uniformly  a  title  of  commendation,  never  of  humilia- 
tion; it  was  likewise  famous  for  its  roses,  for  when  'the  desert 
is  to  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose/  it  is  by  'the  glory  of 
Lebanon  given  unto  it,  the  excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon' 
(Isa.  XXXV.  2).  The  same  i-emarks  apply  to  the  lily  '  like  unto 
which  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed,'  and  which  is 
never  referred  to  in  the  way  of  depreciation,  but  invariably  of 
honor;  for  while  it  is  inconceivable  condescension  in  Jesus  to 
call  himself,  or  rather  to  become,  the  Lily  of  the  Valleys,  that 
flower  was  unquestionably  one  of  singular  beauty. 

Amongst  the  works  of  God  on  earth,  flowers  are  most  ex- 
pressly created  for  beauty  and  delight,  apart  from  necessity; 
created  for  the  admiring  mind  of  man,  and  not  for  the  beasts 
that  perish.  Amongst  flowers,  the  rose  always  and  every- 
where, with  us  now  and  still  more  in  the  East  and  of  old,  has 
held  the  foremost  rank;  and  amongst  the  roses,  the  Hose  of 
Sharon  was  chief.  In  the  words  of  an  ancient  author,  'If  a 
king  were  set  over  flowers,  it  would  be  the  rose  that  should 
reign  over  them,  being  the  ornament  of  the  earth,  the  splen- 
dor of  plants,  the  eye  of  flowers,  the  beauty  of  the  field.'  'I 
am  the  bread  of  life,'  is  Christ  affording  necessary  food  to 
the  perishing  sinner;  and  how  eagerly  have  thousands  of  the 
dying  stretched  their  feeble  hands  to  grasp  this  bread,  and 
eating  it  have  lived.  '1  am  the  true  vine,'  is  Christ  giving, 
not  the  first  necessity,  but  the  choicest  cordial,  to  miserable 
men;  yet  also  it  is  'strong  drink  to  them  that  are  ready  to 
perish,'  as  well  as  'wine  to  such  as  are  of  heavy  heart.'  But 
'  I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon,'  is  Christ  presenting  himself  as  an 
object  of  pure  admiration  and  delight  to  the  children  of  men. 
How  often  has  the  child  of  God,  deeply  convinced  of  his  own 
sin  and  of  the  sin  of  all  around  him,  of  unclean  lips  in  him- 
self, and  dwelling  amongst  a  people  of  unclean  lips,  been  sur- 
prised and  cheered  by  looking  on  the  flowers  of  the  field;  and 
has  said  with  himself, — It  is  not  all  sin  and  sorrow  and  dis- 
pleasure; this  is  God's  own  fair  handiwork,  and  he  still  spreads 
joy  and  beauty  before  the  eye  of  man!  But  it  is  only  through 
Jesus  Christ  that  these  outward  symbols  afford  real  joy  to  the 
soul ;  is  is  Christ  taking  up  the  fairest  of  earth's  flowers,  pluck- 


CHAP.  II.  1.  TUE   KOSE   OF   SnAKOX.  1G3 

iiig  it  baply  from  that  green  carpet  of  which  the  Bride  had 
baid,  'How  green/  or  as  many  render  it,  'how  flowery  h  this 
couch !'  selecting  thence  the  fragrant  rose,  drawing  her  gently 
from  the  more  general  beauty  of  the  scene,  and  leading  her 
straight  to  himself  by  proclaiming,  'I  am  the  llosc  of  Sharon.' 
Nor  less  attractive  is  the  image,  if  we  take  it  of  the  Infant 
born  in  Bethlehem,  and  of  Sharon's  opening  Rosebud,  as  the 
expression  seems  more  exactly  to  denote.  The  holy  child  Je- 
sus with  every  grace  indwelling;  wisdom,  righteousness,  truth, 
love,  and  all  that  was  to  adorn  the  mature  manhood,  found  in 
him ;  that  holy  flesh  which  the  Eternal  Word  had  taken,  and 
in  which,  in  infancy  as  in  manhood,  Godhead  Nvas  dwelling 
bodily.  No  evil  found  within  him  and  no  shadow  of  defect ; 
childhood  without  spot  or  blemish  as  a  snow-white  lamb,  child- 
hood immeasurably  lovely  v>^ith  all  possible  beauty,  childhood 
from  which  aught  taken  would  have  left  want,  childiiood  to 
which  aught  added  would  have  been  superfluous  and  uncomely  ; 
childhood  with  all  the  graces  of  manhood,  but  not  all  developed ; 
and  perfect  childhood  with  graces  of  its  ovy-u,  not  pertaining 
to  maturity  but  peculiar  to  itself.  The  Rosebud  of  Sharon, 
tiie  one  Rosebud  tliat  ever  bloomed  on  earth  without  a  worm 
within  it;  for  in  Paradise  the  full-blown  rose  ajipeared  at  once 
in  Adam.  Many  a  rosebud  seems  fair  to  a  mother's  eye,  but 
only  because  its  leaves  have  not  yet  been  expanded.  If  opened, 
the  blossom  will  go  up  as  dust,  the  canker  worm  will  be  found 
within;  the  folly  that  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  the  child, 
if  left  to  unfold  itself  according  to  its  own  nature,  instead  of 
the  rose  of  Sharon  will  be  found  at  last  to  be  the  hemlock  and 
the  nightshade.  But  in  the  holy  child  Jesus  all  the  unseen, 
all  the  undeveloped,  is  purest  v/isdom,  purest  truth,  purest 
love.  Day  by  day  and  hour  by  hour  as  Sharon's  Rosebud  un- 
folds its  leaves,  it  only  displays  the  beauty  that  was  hid  before; 
till  it  shall  have  expanded  into  Sli»iron's  fully  blossomed  Rose 
with  every  leaf  shining  in  its  loveliness,  every  petal  perfect; 
and  then  the  hand  of  the  Father  plucks  and  transfers  it  to  the 
Paradise  above  whence  it  came — now  also  a  flower  of  earth,  but 
liiirer  than  all  the  flowers  of  heaven.  There  for  ever  it  both 
perfumes  and  beautifies  the  palace  of  the  King  eternal,  im- 

K 


164  THE   LILY   OF   THE   VALLEYS.  CHAP.  IL  1. 

mortal,  invisible;  and,  amid  admiring  angels  and  archangels, 
Jesus  still  for  ever  says,  'I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon.'  Happy- 
Sharon — blessed  Earth,  to  have  furnished  such  a  flower  for 
Heaven! 

And  the  lilif  of  the  valleys — probably  some  beautiful  district 
of  country  named  by  way  of  eminence  the  Valleys,  and  not 
far  from  Sharon,  because,  as  here,  so  we  find  them  elsewhere 
r.amed  together  (1  Chron.  xxvii.  29) ;  and  the  King's,  herds 
feeding  in  Sharon  and  in  the  Valleys,  as  in  the  choicest  pas- 
toral districts  of  the  land  of  Israel.  Next  to  the  roes  amongst 
the  shrubs,  the  lily  was  pre-eminent  amongst  the  flowers.  It 
was  so  decked  with  beauty,  that  Jesus  selects  it  from  among 
the  grassy  flowers  of  the  field  as  of  unrivalled  magnificence; 
and  affirms  of  the  lilies,  that  'Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not 
arrayed  like  one  of  these.'  Of  this  plant  we  seem  hitherto  to  have 
obtained  no  certain  knowledge.  The  lily  that  is  afterwards 
selected  by  the  Bride  to  paint  the  lips  of  the  Beloved  must 
unquestionably  have  been  red  (v.  13).  From  the  connexion 
and  its  distinction  from  the  Rose,  the  lily  referred  to  here  and 
in  the  next  verse  seems  more  probably  white;  and  thus  to- 
gether with  the  rose  containing  contrasted  elements  of  beauty, 
and  corresponding  to  the  Bride's  description  'my  beloved  is 
v/hite  and  ruddy'  (v.  10).  Then,  he  is  so  described  by  her  in 
reference  to  his  death;  but  now,  thus  described  by  himself  as 
soon  as  he  is  born  in  Bethlehem ;  white  and  red  the  Holy  One 
is  in  death  when  his  blood  is  shed,  but  white  and  red  in  his 
lovely  infancy  as  the  Saviour  prepared  for  the  sacrifice. 

Returning  to  the  Rose  of  Sharon,  the  'name'  of  Jesus  'is  as 
ointment  poured  forth';  and  he  is  himself  the  fragrant  plant 
from  which  the  precious  odour  is  distilled;  the  Plant  of  Re- 
nown rafsed  up  by  Jehovah,  the  Rose  that  gladdens  the  wilder- 
ness and  the  solitary  place  (Ezek.  xxxiv.  29;  Isa.  xxxv.  1). 
How  glad  the  solitude  is  made  by  the  Rose  of  Sharon ;  what 
joy  this  fiir  flower  brings  to  the  desolation  of  the  heart  of  man ! 
To  the  weary  traveller  when  his  heart  has  been  sinking  with- 
in, the  tiny  moss  has  gladdened  the  desert  with  the  proof  it 
afforded  of  a  present  God.  And  when  to  the  desolate  soul  all 
the  universe  has  seemed  but  desert  sand,  and  barren  rock,  and 


CHAP.  ir.  1.  THE    LILY    OF   THE    VALLEYS.  165 

wild  lonely  waste,  how  gladdening  has  been  the  sight  of  that 
fair  Flower  of  Paradise — from  heaven  transplanted  into  this 
desert,  by  heaven  protected,  breathing  the  fragrance  of  heaven 
aronnd,  and,  to  him  that  plucks  it  and  bears  it  in  his  bosom, 
the  sure  pledge  of  personal  transition  into  heaven !  The  tree 
of  life  in  the  midst  of  the  Paradise  of  God  Jesus  was;  born  in 
Bethlehem,  ho  became  the  Rose  of  Sharon  fairer  than  earth, 
yet  in  the  earth;  departing,  he  returns  thither  whence  he  came 
down,  saying  'to-day  in  Paradise;'  but  now  in  Paradise  the 
Rose  of  Earth  still,  Jesus  the  Son  of  Man  for  ever,  and  from 
heaven  proclaiming  to  men,  'I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon.' 

Yes,  there  are  roses  on  this  guilty  earth ! 

Sons  of  affliction  fainting  on  your  way ; 

Yea,  almost  tempted  in  some  fearful  hour, 

Impatient  of  home-distance,  to  lie  down 

Beneath  the  Junipers  and  wish  to  die. 

Who  i?  among  you  that  can  truly  say, 

I  found  no  blossoms  in  my  lonely  track  ? 

The  testimony  mute  of  fragrant  things. 

Cheering  the  wilderness  which  sin  has  made. 

May  hint  encouragement,  but  Christ  alone 

flakes  the  dull  waste  incipient  Paradise. 

His  odour  fills  the  solitary  place 

Of  pining  sickness,  poverty,  restraint, 

AVitli  thoughts  of  tenderness ;  his  beauty  cheers 

The  melancholy  heart  deprived  and  reft. 

Meditations. 

There  Is,  further,  in  the  rose  of  Sharon  and  the  lily  of  the 
valleys,  Christ  set  forth  as  open  and  free  to  every  comer. 
It  is  no  rose  enclosed  within  a  high-walled  garden,  no  flower 
reserved  for  a  few,  but  open  in  the  field  of  Sharon  and  at  hand 
in  the  valleys.  With  all  its  heavenly  beauty  and  its  rare 
fragrance,  it  is  yours,  O  man,  to  pluck  and  take  into  your  bo- 
som for  yourself;  yours,  not  merely  to  admire,  but  to  possess. 
As  if  in  the  closest  alleys  of  our  crowded  cities  there  grew  a 
flower  blooming  and  odorous,  never  sullied  nor  savourless,  but 
always  fresh,  and  free  for  every  hand  that  seeks  to  pluck  it ; 
yea,  not  as  if  it  were,  but  actually  so  it  is,  for  Jesus  entering 
our  streets  and  lanes  is  ever  proclaiming,  'I  am  the  Rose  of 


16G  THE   LILY   AMONG   THOEXS.  CHAP.  11.  2. 

Sharon  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valleys';  and  proving  his  presence 
by  planting  there  a  lily  among  the  thorns  to  testify  of  himself. 
But  alas!  'man  without  understanding  is  like  the  beasts  that 
perish';  like  the  herds  and  flocks  that  feed  on  Sharon's  pas- 
tures, and  see  no  beauty  in  Sharon's  roses.  To  earthly  and  un- 
believing men  Jesus  is  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground ;  without 
form,  or  comeliness,  or  beauty,  that  they  should  desire  him. 

THE   LIIiY   AMONG  THORKS. 

As  the  lily  among  thorns,  so  is  my  love  among  the  daughters. — ■ 
'  Close  by  these  lilies  there  grew  several  of  the  thorny  shrubs 
of  the  desert;  but  above  them  rose  the  lily,  spreading  out  its 
fresh  green  leaf  as  a  contrast  to  the  dingy  verdure  of  these 
prickly  shrubs — "like  the  lily  among  thorns,  so  is  my  love 
among  th©  daughters  "  '  (Bonar).  Amongst  the  daughters,  that 
is,  not  of  God  but  of  men  ;  amongst  the  daughters  of  Jerusa- 
lem also,  in  so  far  as  these  are  not  virgin  followers  of  the 
Lamb;  and,  it  may  be,  amongst  the  true  daughters  of  Zion, 
when  they  are  mingled  with  the  world,  and  like  them — thorns 
woundino;  Jesus  in  the  house  of  his  friends.  Because  Christ 
is  the  lily  of  the  valleys — pure,  lovely,  beautiful,  therefore  his 
bride,  his  sister  and  spouse,  is  a  lily  also,  bearing  the  image 
of  his  loveliness,  and  reflecting  it  to  men.  Bride  of  the  Lamb ! 
next  to  the  delight  thou  hast  in  Christ,  is  thy  delight  that  he 
should  have  joy  in  thee;  next  to  admiring  him  as  the  lily  of 
the  valleys,  is  thy  satisfaction  that  his  eye  ste)uld  rest  on  thee, 
and  his  soul  repose  on  thee  as  a  lily  among  thorns.  While 
briars  and  thorns  have  been  with  him,  and  he  hath  dwelt 
among  scorpions,  it  is  no  common  contentment  to  the  soul  that 
he  should  not  be  pierced  by  thorns  of  thine,  but  that  in  gather- 
ins:  his  lilies  he  should  find  in  thee  one  bloomino;  for  his  hand 
to  pluck.  Then  it  is  thine  honor  that  among  the  waste  briars 
men  should  behold  in  thee  a  flower  of  heaven,  thriving  in  the 
,  wilderness,  and  lovely  in  the  desolation.  Ask  not  what  they 
can  discover  in  thee,  that  they  may  not  see  directly  and  far 
more  gloriously  in  Christ.  Hast  thou  never  thyself  gazed  un- 
expectingly  on  the  muddy  waters  beneath  thy  feet,  and  in  the 
dim  mirror  seen  wonders  in  the  heavens  above  athwart  the 


CHAP.  II.  3.       THE  APPLE-TREE  IN  THE  AVOOD.  167 

sun's  disk  or  around  his  fiery  orb,  which  by  direct  gazing  up- 
ward on  his  glory  thou  couldst  never  have  discovered ;  and  do 
not  men  of  earth  stooping  downward,  and  with  eyes  all  unex- 
ercised to  look  upon  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  require  even 
thee  for  a  mirror,  dark  indeed  yet  not  false,  in  which  they 
may  behold  the  brightness  of  his  glory?  Besides,  it  must  not 
be  forgot  that  the  one  fair  Lily  of  the  Valleys,  like  whom 
Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed,  has  been  by  the 
great  Husbandman  transplanted  into  Mount  Zion  above;  that 
him,  therefore,  the  men  of  this  world  see  no  longer;  that  he 
has  left  his  disciples  for  his  witness  on  earth ;  and  that  the  re- 
flection of  his  heavenly  image  by  them  is  due  both  to  their 
Lord  and  to  the  perishing  children  of  men. 

But  remember  that  a  lily  thou  art  among  thorns.  A  thorn 
amongst  lilies  probably  thou  wast  once,  a  spot  in  the  feast  of 
love,  a  dog  in  the  fold  of  sheep ;  and  now  wouldst  thou  grow 
as  a  lily  among  the  lilies?  So  be  it — see  that  thou  fail  not 
even  in  this ;  but  if  thou  art  Christ's  lowly  lily  at  all,  such  a 
lily  must  thou  be  wheresoever  growing,  and  by- whatsoever 
surrounded.  Sheep  in  a  flock  of  sheep — nay,  said  the  Shepherd, 
but  'as  sheep  among  wolves  I  send  you  forth.'  If  thou  takest 
to  thee  the  fence  of  thorns  because  thorns  are  around  thee,  then 
thy  Lord's  hand  holds  thee  not,  for  thou  wilt  pierce  it  too; 
and  thyself  thou  canst  not  thus  defend,  for  the  prickles  which 
protect  the  thorn  will  only  tear  the  tender  leaves  of  the  lily. 
Ask  to  be,  dare  to  be,  and  rejoice  to  be  a  lily  among  thorns. 
So  will  thy  Lord  say,  'this  is  my  love  among  the  daughters;' 
and  so  from  time  to  time  the  very  thorns  around  thee  will  be 
transformed  into  lilies,  to  thy  Lord's  great  honor,  and  thine 
own  present  and  everlasting  gain. 

THE  APPLE-TREE   IX   THE   WOOD. 

As  the  apple-tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  so  is  my  beloved 
among  the  sons. — This  apple-tree  had  a  goodly  shadow,  and, 
yielded  fruit  both  fragrant  in  scent,  and  delicious  in  taste. 
These  two  last  agree  with  what  we  now  call  peculiarly  the 
apple-tree,  but  not  the  first;  for  it  is  not  remarkable  for  its 
shadow,  neither  in  Judea  noted  for  its  apples.     The  citron. 


168  THE  APPLE-TPtEE  IN  THE  WOOD.        CHAP.  II.  3. 

hoM'ever,  abounds  in  Palestine,  and,  lilce  the  orange  and  other 
trees  of  tlie  same  class,  has  a  dark  foliage  of  surpassing  beauty 
and  abundant  shade ;  through  which  the  shining  of  the  bright 
golden  fruit  presents  one  of  the  most  attractive  objects  within 
the  garden  of  this  earth,  and  not  more  beautiful  to  the  eye 
than  pleasant  and  reviving  in  its  fragrance.  The  Hebrew 
word,  which  signifies  'breathing'  odour,  may  include  any 
fragrant  fruit ;  and  is  here  rendered  citron  in  the  Chaldce  para- 
phrase, as  well  as  by  most  modern  translators.  It  is  explana- 
tion, however,  rather  than  alteration  that  our  common  version 
requires;  for  the  term  ajjple  in  our  own,  like  the  corresponding 
Avord  in  other  languages,  had  not  in  the  time  of  our  Bible 
translators  the  same  exclusive  meaning  as  now,  but  extended 
to  all  large  round  fruit  not  enclosed  in  a  shell.  It  included 
along  with  our  apple  the  pome-citron  or  citron-apple,  the  pome- 
granate or  grained  apple,  and  the  orange  or  golden  apple;  and 
is  for  this  very  reason  jjreferred  by  some  of  the  best  critics  of 
that  age  to  any  more  restricted  term.  (Ainsworth.)  They  are 
probably  right,  both  on  this  account,  and  from  the  difficulty 
of  determining  one  tree;  for  if  the  apple  wants  the  shade  un- 
der which  the  Bride  sat  down  with  delight,  we  doubt  if  the 
citron  possess  the  sweetness  of  the  fruit  that  was  delicious  to  her 
taste.  It  rather  seems  as  if,  by  this  beautiful  figure,  the  Church 
would  set  forth  Christ  as  the  one  Fruitful  Tree  amongst  the 
fruitless,  combining  in  itself  all  variety  of  excellence,  the  beauty 
of  the  apple,  the  refreshing  juices  of  the  pomegranate  and  the 
orange,  the  cool  shadow  and  reviving  fragrance  of  the  citron. 
The  Vine  he  calls  himself,  glorying  in  dejjendence  upon  the 
Father,  but  to  the  Church  He  is  '  the  Apple-tree'  erect,  self-sus- 
taining, and  aifording  shelter  as  well  as  food  for  the  perishing. 
Among  the  trees  of  some  wild  wood  of  nature's  growth  i? 
the  fir-tree,  where  the  stork  hath  its  dwelling,  with  its  sealed 
cones  affording  no  food  for  man ;  the  oak  of  Bashan,  whose 
boughs  the  lightning  hath  rent,  and  around  whose  roots  the 
wild  boar  is  feeding  on  the  acorns,  the  husks  which  the  swine 
alone  can  eat;  the  ash  also,  which  the  rain  hath  nourished, 
and  out  of  which  the  idolater  fashioneth  his  god.  But  for  the 
traveller  weary  and  faint,  there  is  in  all  the  forest  nothing  to 


CHAP.  II.  3.        THE  APPLE-TI;EE  IX  THE  WOOD.  IGO 

attract  the  eye,  to  satisfy  the  hunger,  to  quench  tlic  thirst. 
At  last,  one  bright  tree  with  ripe  golden  fruit  shines  through 
the  dreary  waste;  how  beautiful  the  sight,  how  fragrant  the 
perfume,  how  refreshing  the  food! — The  apple-tree  among  the 
trees  of  the  forest.  Fruitless,  useless,  disappointing  they  all 
are;  how  lovely  this  one  tree!  So  is  my  beloved  among  the 
sons;  such  is  Jesus  Christ  among  all  the  children  of  men — 
the  Son  of  Man.  Sons  of  men  they  are  too,  but  bleak  and 
barren  trees ;  the  Son  of  Man  he  is,  and  the  one  fruitful  tree 
in  the  whole  forest  of  the  human  family  in  all  generations. 
Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  trees,  fruitless  all,  fit  fuel 
for  the  fire;  amongst  them  all  affording  not  a  single  fruit  for 
the  eye  to  admire,  the  hand  to  pluck,  the  mouth  to  eat.  But 
this  apple-tree  laden,  and  clustered  over  with  heavenly  fruit, 
yet  growing  in  the  heart  of  a  bleak  earthly  forest;  rich*in  its 
fruitfulness,  and  rich  in  contrast  with  the  barrenness  around ; 
lovely  in  itself,  and  by  comparison  with  surrounding  desola' 
tion.  Oh,  what  a  tree  of  life  is  Jesus  Christ — life-possessing, 
life-exhibiting,  life-affording  to  all  the  dying  that  will  consent 
to  eat  and  live! 

As  in  some  sere  and  unproductive  wood, 
One  lovely  fruit-producing  Apple-tree, 
Bright  contrast  to  the  ruin'd  thousands  round. 

3Id.  Meditations. 

I  sat  doicn  undo'  his  shadow  ivith  great  delight,  and  his  fruit 
was  sweet  to  my  taste. — The  rest  of  the  trees,  as  lightning-scathed, 
afforded  no  shelter  to  sit  beneath;  or  if  perchance  they  did,  it 
was  only  the  shade  of  the  juniper  under  which  to  lie  down  in 
grief  and  die,  for  it  yielded  no  food  for  the  perishing.  But 
when  the  sun  is  scorching  above,  the  tliroat  [)arched  with  thirst, 
and  the  life  within  expiring  for  want,  the  wanderer  can  safely 
sit  down  and  rest  beneath  this  tree,  because  it  yields  not  shelter 
only  but  food,  and  food  most  delicious  to  the  taste.  Any  food 
had  been  welcome  in  such  a  case,  but  the  very  fruit  of  Eden 
is  found  by  the  outcast  offender.  How  often  has  the  soul,  after 
traversing  the  forest — sin-blasted  and  judgment-stricken — of 
all  the  sons  of  men,  of  all  the  refu'j^es  of  men,  and  of  all  the 


170  THE    APPLE-TItES    IX    THE   WOOD.      CHAP.  II.  3. 

solaces  of  men,  exclaimed  at  the  first  sight  of  Jesus,  'As  the 
apple-tree  among  the  trees  of  the  forest,  so  is  my  Beloved 
among  the  sons;  I  sat  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight, 
and  his  fruit  was  sweet  unto  my  taste.' 

There  is  on  this  one  tree  all  manner  of  fruit,  and  in  all 
abundance;  fruit  of  wisdom,  holiness,  righteousness,  truth, 
peace,  love.  Man  requires  fruit  to  present  to  his  God  in  return 
for  the  garden  intrusted  to  his  care;  he  needs  fruit  for  himself 
that  he  may  eat  and  live;  in  himself  he  has  neither,  but  in 
Jesus  Christ  he  finds  both,  he  finds  all.  In  him  are  holiness, 
justice,  goodness,  not  in  stern  demand,  but  in  ripe  produce  and 
free  gift.  To  keep  the  tree  and  gather  its  fruit  he  had  first 
been  commanded,  had  essayed,  and  had  quickly  failed;  to 
labor  for  it  lost  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  and  to  buy  it  with 
his  ref)robate  silver,  is  his  next  unbidden  and  unblessed 
attempt;  and  when  all  has  failed,  he  finds  divinely  provided 
for  him  in  Jesus,  fruit  fairer  than  Eden  ever  bore;  fruit  sweeter 
than  grows  in  angelic  gardens;  given  without  labor  to  him 
that  worketh  not,  without  price  to  him  that  hath  no  money. 
Sweet  to  the  taste  it  is,  strangely  sweet,  marvellously  delicious 
fruit;  all  else  but  gall  aud  wormwood  beside  it,  all  husks,  all 
ashes,  all  apples  of  Sodom,  all  grapes  of  Gomorrah.  This  is 
the  fruit  that  God  the  great  husbandman  rejoices  to  gather — 
'  My  Beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased.'  God's  Beloved 
he  is,  and  the  soul's  Beloved — 'his  fruit  sweet  unto  my  taste.' 
How  wonderful  that  my  parched  lips  should  ever  have  tasted 
such  fruit  as  this ;  that  my  guilty  hands  should  ever  grasp 
such  fruit  to  offer  to  my  God !  With  great  delight  the  soul 
sits  down  beneath  his  shadow;  sits,  rests,  and  remains;  re- 
quiring to  search  for  no  other  tree  besides,  but  obtaining  all 
shelter,  all  solace,  all  sustenance,  in  this  single  tree  of  life,  this 
apple-tree  in  the  forest,  this  Son  of  Man,  this  Christ  of  God. 

But  there  are  loftier  trees  by  far  in  the  forest,  statelier  to 
the  carnal  eye,  and  many  are  saying,  'Who  will  ascend  for  us 
into  heaven'  to  gather  there  the  lost  fruit  of  Paradise  ?  There 
are  trees  remoter,  and  many  say,  '  Who  will  go  beyond  the  sea' 
to  fetch  for  us  thence  the  fruit  of  life?  Meanwhile  Christ  is 
'nigh  thee/  beside  thee,  before  thee;  and  this  laden  apple-tree 


r.  JAP.  II.  3.       TnE  APPLE-TREE  IX  THE  WOOD.  171 

stands  overlooked  because  so  lowly,  and  because  so  near.  Nay, 
when  thou  seest,  thou  fearest  to  eat,  because  thou  didst  not 
plant  the  tree,  and  canst  not  produce  the  fruit.  But  it  is  free, 
and  is  thine  if  thou  wilt  only  'eat  and  live.'  Of  the  tree  of 
interdicted  knowledge  Satan  falsely  affirmed,  It  is  thine,  eat 
of  it,  and  thou  shalt  not  die;  and  believing  the  liar,  obeying 
the  rebel,  kissing  the  murderer,  thou  didst  stretch  thy  hand  to 
pluck  and  perish.  Of  this  second  Tree,  this  Tree  of  Life,  he 
says.  Eat  not,  it  is  neither  thine  nor  for  thee,  if  thou  eatest 
thou  diest — and  therefore  dost  thou  hesitate  to  eat?  Thine 
own  distrustful  heart  also  surmises  that  there  must  be  some 
delusion  in  so  rich  a  prize,  some  lion  prowling  near  to  tear  if 
thou  venture  to  touch,  and  as  thou  approachest  thou  hearest 
his  roar,  the  fiercer  as  thy  footstep  draws  nearer.  But  advance, 
nay  run,  thou  trembling  soul!  and  be  assured  that  beneath 
that  tree  he  is  not,  for  'no  lion  shall  bo  there.'  Therefore  it 
is  that  he  roareth  so  loudly  now,  because  within  the  circle  of 
that  shade  he  dare  not  enter,  to  him  it  is  the  interdicted  shadow 
of  death,  but  to  thee  the  inviting  and  relieving  shadow  of  rest 
and  of  life.  But  there  is  some  serpent  concealed  within  its 
roots,  or  coiled  around  its  branches?  Nay,  in  that  first  for- 
bidden tree  there  was;  as  into  a  silver  basket  of  tempting  fruit 
thou  didst  thrust  thy  hand,  but  the  deadly  aspic  lay  concealed 
beneath,  in  an  instant  its  venom  was  through  all  thy  frame 
from  head  to  foot,  and  M'ithin  that  hour  thou  wast  dead.  But 
there  is  no  serpent  here,  for  this  is  that  tree  of  goodly  shadow 
and  fairest  fruit  of  which  Jesus,  while  he  bare  to  Calvary  the 
accursed  tree  on  which  he  Avas  to  hang,  said  'if  these  thin'>-s 
be  done  in  a  Green  Tree.'  On  that  tree  he  spoiled  principali- 
ties and  powers,  triumphing  over  them  and  nailing  them  to 
his  cross;  and  hanging  on  that  tree  thou  mayest  still  behold 
the  old  serpent  nailed  fast.  He  cannot  deliver  himself,  he 
cannot  injure  thee;  'out  of  the  eater  has  come  forth  meat,  and 
out  of  the  strong  one  sweetness.'  Sit  down  'beneath  the  shadow' 
of  Jesus,  rest  and  fear  not ;  'cease  to  spend  money  for  that  which 
is  not  bread,'  'hear  and  your  soul  shall  live,'  'eat  that  which  is 
good';  'sit  down'  and  assuredly  it  shall  'be  with  great  de- 
light,' 'eat'  and  assuredly  the  fruit  shall  be  'sweet  to  thy  taste.' 


172  THE  BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  4-^ 


yiii. 

THE  BANQUET-HALL. 

THE  BANNER  OF   LOVE— THE  BANQUET  OF  WINE— THE 
HANDS  OF  THE  KING— THE  HINDS  OF  THE  FIELD. 

He  brought  me  to  the  banqueting-house,  and  his  banner  over  me  xoas 
love.  Stay  me  with  flagons,  comfort  me  with  apples ;  for  I  am  sick  of 
love.  His  left  hand  is  under  my  head,  and  his  right  hand  doth  embrace 
me.  I  charge  you,  0  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes,  and  by  the 
hinds  of  the  field,  that  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake  my  love,  till  he  please. 
—Chap.  ii.  4-7. 

THE  BANNER  OF   LOVE. 

He  brought  me  into  the  banqueting-house. — In  New  Testament 
history,  it  is  in  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ  that  this  joy  is  ful- 
filled, as  when  Simeon  and  Anna,  Joseph  and  Mary,  rejoice 
over  him  together  in  the  temple  of  Jehovah,  rendering  all  past 
manifestations  of  his  presence  to  the  church  only  faint  and  dis- 
tant in  contrast.  The  words  of  JMary's  own  song,  and  the 
words  of  her  father  Solomon,  regarding  that  blessed  birth,  are 
scarcely  different.  'He  hath  brought  me  into  the  banqueting- 
house'  are  the  words  of  David's  son, — 'he  hath  filled  the 
hungry  with  good  things'  the  words  of  David's  daughter,  after 
the  lapse  of  a  thousand  years;  but  both  describing  the  same 
divine  feast.  In  the  history  of  ancient  Israel,  the  banqueting- 
house  of  the  King  was  entered  when,  having  sought  the  Shep- 
herd's noon-day  rest,  they  were  led  to  the  mountain  of  God, 
and  beheld  his  glory.  Then  Moses,  Aaron,  and  the  seventy 
elders  of  Israel  went  up  and  'saw  the  God  of  Israel,  with  a 
paved  work  as  of  sapphire-stone  under  his  feei ;  and  on  the 
nobles  he  laid  not  his  hand,  but  they  saw  God  and  did  eat  and 
drink.'  That  sight  and  that  feast  opened  to  the  Church  Je- 
hovah's banquet-hall  as  had  never  been  done  before;  yet  was 
it  but  through  a  glass  darkly,  compared  with  the  temple  that 


cnAP.  ir.  4.  TUE  baxxer  of  love.  173 

was  filled  with  the  glory  of  God  manifest  iu  the  flesh/  by  the 
presence  of  the  Holy  Child  Jesus. 

*He  brought  me  to  the  banqueting-house' — he  hath  now 
brought  me  into  his  banquet-hall;  the  same  King  who  had  at 
an  earlier  season  brought  the  believing  soul  ^into  his  cham- 
bers/ which  were  cherished  in  memory,  and  an  entrance  to 
them  entreated  again.  'Draw  me  and  we  will  run' — Jesus 
hath  heard  this  prayer  of  the  Bride,  and  step  by  step  hath 
answered  it.  Being  secretly  enabled,  she  had  overtaken  and 
found  the  King;  at  an  outer  repast  he  had  received  her  as  qn 
a  carpet  of  grass,  under  the  shadow  of  the  cedars;  he  had  been 
to  her  as  '  the  rose  of  Sharon '  in  the  scentless  wilderness,  '  as 
the  apple-tree'  in  the  fruitless  forest.  But  now,  he  has  not 
only  suffered  the  seeking  soul  to  find  him,  but  has  brought  his 
follower  further — has  introduced  her  into  his  royal  palace, 
entering  along  with  her — has  spread  for  her  not  only  a  feast 
of  fruits,  but  a  banquet  of  wine ;  not  a  mere  noon-tide  repast, 
but  a  sumptuous  bridal  supper.  It  was  all,  and  more  than 
all,  that  had  been  remembered,  or  had  been  asked ;  it  was 
more  than  had  been  expressed  or  conceived.  'Call  unto  me 
and  I  will  answer  thee,  and  show  thee  great  and  mighty  things 
which  thou  knowest  not,'  things  known  and  unknown ;  asked 
and  thought,  yet  above  all  asking  and  above  all  thinking. 

And  his  banner  over  me  was  love. — Was  and  is  love,  for  it 
continues  floating  over  her  still.  It  is  the  banner  of  conquest 
over  thee,  believer,  by  which  he  subdued  thee  to  himself;  by 
which  he  conquered  thee  when  thou  wast  in  hatred,  in  re- 
bellion, in  arms  against  him.  It  was  he  that  disarmed  thee, 
he  that  subdued  and  took  thee  captive.  Command  thou  didst 
meet  with  resistance,  righteous  auger  with  unholy  enmity, 
threatened  vengeance  with  servile  fear  and  flight.  Law  ar- 
rested thee,  fettered  thee,  silenced  thee,  slew  thee ;  without  it 
thou  hadst  made  light  of  all  the  tenderness  of  love,  but  it  never 
completely  disarmed  thee.  Love  called  to  thee  in  thy  re- 
bellious flight,  and  turned  thee  to  reason  together  with  thy 
Lord;  love  allured  thee  to  look  upon  the  righteousness  of  law, 
and  to  own  the  justice  of  judgment;  kindly  drew  aside  the  veil 
of  prejudice  from  thine  eyes,  gently  yet  irresistibly  took  the 


174  THE  BANQUET-nALL.  CHAP.  II.  4. 

arms  of  war  oat  of  thy  hands,  the  arguments  of  self-vindica- 
tion from  thy  lips,  the  gall  of  bitterness  out  of  thy  heart.  He 
loved  thee,  thou  believedst  the  love,  and  being  overcome  thou 
lovedst  him  again  who  first  loved  thee.  Having  conquered 
thee  by  love,  he  erected  over  thee  love's  triumphal  banner. 

It  is  the  banner  also  oi protection.  He  has  planted  it  firmly 
over  thee,  thine  enemies  see  it  and  are  afraid,  the  god  of  the 
world  and  the  children  of  the  world  fear  to  touch  thee  beneath 
this  ensign.  They  often  saw  it  waving  over  the  holy  Jesus, 
of  whom  the  Father  testified — 'This  is  my  Beloved  Son,'  and 
they  trembled  to  touch  him,  because  his  hour  was  not  come. 
When  at  last  they  took  him  and  crucified  him,  and  conscience 
inwardly  gnawed  them  all  the  while,  their  confidence  was  that 
the  banner  of  God's  love  was  removed  from  over  his  devoted 
head.  'Persecute  and  take  him,  for  God  hath  forsaken  him,' 
they  cried  to  each  other;  'why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?'  they 
heard  him  cry.  They  dared  to  nail  him  to  the  tree,  only  be- 
cause they  dared  to  think  that  God's  banner  of  love  was  over 
him  no  more — '  Let  God  deliver  him  seeing  he  deliirhted  in 
him.'  '  God  delighteth  in  him'  had  been  their  terror,  and  now 
they  mock  the  forsaken  banner  which  once  they  feared.  So, 
believer,  still  Satan  and  the  Avorld  fear  that  love,  and  fear  thee 
when  that  banner  floateth  over  thee.  Thus,  also,  within  thine 
own  soul  'the  peace  of  God  that  passeth  understanding  keepeth 
thy  heart  and  mind  in  Christ  Jesus,'  guardeth  thee,  protecteth 
thee,  preserveth  thee  more  than  with  a  wall  of  fire.  O  tear 
not  this  banner  down,  disown  it  not,  but  let  thy  soul  make 
her  boast  in  the  Lord,  believing  in  his  love. 

It  is  the  banner  likewise  of  enlistment,  and  thy  glorious  en- 
sign of  battle  ;  for  Christ  has  chosen  thee  to  be  his  soldier,  and 
the  banner  under  which  he  has  enrolled  thee  to  serve  is  Love. 
In  the  legion  of  love  he  has  inscribed  thy  name,  the  warfare 
of  love  he  has  called  thee  to  wage,  the  battles  of  love  he  has 
engaged  thee  to  fight.  His  best  soldier  is  he  that  loveth  best; 
who,  through  love,  'suffers  all  things  for  the  elect's  sake,' 
through  love  'becomes  all  things  to  all  men  to  win  some,' 
through  love  'gives  his  body  as  the  ground  and  as  the  street . 
to  them  to  pass  over ';  who  in  love  '  sufiJereth  long  and  is  kind, 


CHAP.  II.  5.  THE   BANQUET   OF   WINE.  175 

beareth  all  things,  believetli  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  and 
by  love  ovcrcometh  evil  with  good.'  The  emblem  graven  on 
this  banner  is  'a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain;'  the  superscription 
written  over  the  emblem  is,  'God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he 
gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.'  If  thou  alter 
this  ensign,  or  if  thou  suffer  its  tokens  to  lie  furled  and  hid 
within  its  folds,  thou  shalt  neither  please  the  Captain  of  thy 
Salvation  nor  conquer  his  foes.  But  if  thou  'display  it  be- 
cause of  meekness,  truth,  and  righteousness,  speaking  the  truth 
in  love,'  when  all  other  weapons  in  thine  armoury  have  failed, 
Love  will  triumph.  Only,  it  must  ever  be  His  banner  over 
thee,  conquering  and  subduing  thee  to  himself;  if  thou  wilt 
wave  it  as  his  banner  over  others  to  overcome  them,  thou  must, 
first  of  all,  say  for  thine  own  soul — '  His  banner  over  me  is  love !' 

THE   BANQUET   OF   WINE. 

Stay  mo  with  flagons,  comfort  me  loith  apples,  for  I  am  sick  of 
love. — The  soul  is  now  brought  by  the  Spirit  into  the  closest 
and  fullest  communion  that  can  be  either  known  or  sustained 
on  earth;  nor  is  there  the  same  overflowing  fulness  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  any  future  portion  of  the  believer's  history,  as 
illustrated  in  this  Song.  This  does  not  imply  that  God  takes 
the  same  order  in  his  revelations  in  every  case  or  even  usually, 
for  the  Spirit  dLstributeth  to  every  man  severally  as  he  willeth. 
In  some,  it  may  be  at  first  conversion  and  first  love,  which  is 
past  before  this  song  commences;  in  others,  in  the  mid -day ' 
of  their  course  when  he  giveth  them  'rest  at  noon;'  or,  as 
with  the  aged  Simeon,  it  may  come  to  pass  that  'at  evening- 
time  it  shall  be  light;'  while  in  most,  this  exceeding  great  joy 
is  reserved  for  the  banquet  above.  That,  when  bestowed,  it 
may  sometimes  occur  comparatively  early  in  the  divine  life,  is 
evident  from  the  history  of  Paul ;  who,  speaking  of  ecstatic 
vision,  says  he  •  knew  a  man  in  Christ  fourteen  years  before, 
caught  up  into  the  third  heavens  and  hearing  unutterable  things'; 
implying  that  during  all  the  intervening  years  nothing  in  that 
kind  equal  had  been  granted  him  by  the  Lord.     In  the  Church 


176  THE   BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  5. 

in  the  wilderness,  it  was  when  the  glory  of  the  Lord  filled  the 
newly-reared  tabernacle;  in  the  Church  in  Jerusalem,  when 
the  glory  filled  the  temple,  so  that  the  priests  could  not  stand 
to  minister ;  in  the  later  Hebrew  Church,  when  the  child  Je- 
sus was  presented  in  the  temple;  in  the  Christian  Church, 
when  the  rushing  mighty  wind  filled  the  house,  and  tongues 
of  fire  rested  on  the  disciples.  The  ancient  promise  may  be 
kept  in  the  order  as  well  as  in  the  substance  of  the  words — 
'they  shall  mount  up  on  wings  as  eagles,'  flying  first;  next, 
'they  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,'  swift  runners  now,  yet  upon 
the  earth;  then  slower  and  humbler  still,  yet  equally  sure,  and 
equally  good — 'they  shall  walk  and  not  faint.' 

The  address  of  the  Bride  'stay  me  with  flagons'  is  to  more 
than  one,  and  may  be  directed  either  to  her  fellow-virgins,  or 
to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  ;  or  rather,  in  the  words  of  one 
well  acquainted  with  such  exercise,  'she  shows  a  ravishment 
and  kind  of  rapture  in  this  exclamation  (as  the  disciples  did 
on  the  mount,  not  knowing  what  they  said) ;  not  observing  to 
whom  she  speaks,  but  expressing  her  delight  in  that  which  she 
enjoyed;  yet  mainly  intending  Christ,  for  it  is  he  who  in  the 
next  verse  applies  the  case.'  (Durham.)  The  flagons  are  the 
vessels  which  contain  the  wine  in  the  banqiieting-hall,  or  they 
are  caskets  full  of  aromatic  ointments  with  which  she  desires 
to  be  strengthened ;  the  citron-apples  are  the  fruit  of  the  tree 
under  which  she  had  been  seated,  and  which  she  now  desires, 
not  for  refreshing  food,  but  for  restoring  fragrance.  The  wine 
is  the  'new  wine  of  the  kingdom,'  the  Word  and  the  Spirit  of 
Christ;  and  the  apples  the  fruits  of  Christ's  life  and  death, 
his  promises  and  manifold  grace.  The  love  of  Christ  has 
wounded  and  overcome  the  soul  (Sept.),  creating  such  intense 
desire,  that  nothing  can  bring  relief  but  a  greater  abundance  of 
the  same  love,  as  if  the  heart  said — Stay  me  with  love,  for  I 
am  sick  of  love. 

The  love,  the  love  that  I  bespeak, 

Works  wonders  in  the  soul ; 
For  when  I'm  whole  it  makes  me  sick, 

When  sick  it  make^  me  whole. 


CHAP.  II.  5.  THE   BANQUET   OF   WINE.  177 

I'm  overcome,  I  faint,  I  fail, 

Till  love  shall  love  relieve ; 
More  love  divine  tlie  wound  can  heal, 

Which  love  divine  did  give. 

More  of  the  joy  that  makes  mo  faint, 

Would  give  me  present  ease; 
If  more  should  kill  me,  I'm  content 

To  die  of  that  disease. — ErsJcine. 

'  This  is  a  mystery  to  the  generality,  yea  even  to  many  who 
are  really  godly,  and  have  some  glances  sometimes  of  his  face; 
for  every  one  is  not  admitted  to  this  length  of  access,  yea  but 
very  few,  and  these  but  once  or  twice,  it  may  be,  in  their  life. 
Therefore  I  dare  not  adventure  upon  diving  too  far  in  this 
depth,  which  is  one  of  the  greatest  mysteries  of  the  Christian's 
life;  for  as  I  shall  not  pretend  to  be  so  far  advanced  as  to  know 
this  case,  so  if  I  should  attempt  it,  few  would  understand  me.' 
(Mirror  of  Divine  Love.)  It  is  profitable,  however,  to  read 
in  the  words  of  others  even  that  which  for  the  present  we 
comprehend  not,  both  that  we  may  know  by  testimony  the 
power  of  divine  love  in  men  of  like  passions  with  ourselves, 
and  also  that  for  ourselves  we  may  be  stimulated  to  covet 
earnestly  these  best  gifts.  We  shall  therefore,  in  illustration 
of  the  text,  transcribe  the  following  passages  from  Fleming's 
Fulfilling  of  the  Scripture: — 

'Xow  it  is  known  how  great  a  testimony  the  experience  of 
the  godly  in  these  late  times,  could  give  to  what  they  have  in 
a  large  measure  felt  of  the  power  and  refreshing  outlettings  of 
the  Spirit  within  their  soul ;  yea,  how  after  sorest  downcasting 
they  have  been  wonderfully  raised  above  themselves,  and  filled 
with  the  consolation  of  God  and  joy  unspeakable :  I  shall  name 
these : — 

'  Mr.  Welch  and  INIr.  Forbes,  great  witnesses  of  Christ  in 
this  laud,  when  they  were  prisoners  give  this  account  of  their 
case, — "Dear  brethren,  we  dare  say  by  experience,  and  our 
God  is  witness  we  lie  not,  that  unspeakable  is  the  joy  of  suffer- 
ing for  his  kingdom.  We  had  never  such  joy  and  peace  in 
preaching  of  it  as  Ave  have  found  in  suffering  for  the  same;  we 
spoke  before  in  knowledge,  we  now  speak  by  experience,  that 


178  THE  BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  5. 

the  kingdom  of  God  consists  in  peace  and  joy."  And  in  another 
letter  thus  they  say, — ''Our  joy  hath  greatly  abounded  since 
the  last  day  (which  was  after  passing  sentence  of  death  on 
them\  so  that  we  cannot  enough  wonder  at  the  riches  of  his 
free  grace,  that  should  have  vouchsafed  such  a  gift  upon  us  to 
suffer  for  his  kingdom,  in  which  there  is  joy  unspeakable  and 
glorious ;  and  we  are  rather  in  fear  that  they  (the  sufferings) 
be  not  continued,  and  so  we  be  robbed  of  further  consolation, 
than  that  they  should  increase.  Surely  there  is  great  consola- 
tion in  suffering  for  Christ — we  cannot  express  unto  you  the 
joy  which  our  God  hath  caused  abound  in  us." 

'I  shall  also  mention  that  great  servant  of  Christ,  Mr. 
Rutherford,  whose  letters  now  published  can  witness  what 
solemn  days  of  the  Spirit,  and  sensible  out-lettings  thereof  ho 
oft  had  in  his  experience,  though  books  can  tell  but  little  what 
he  really  felt  and  enjoyed.  I  shall  only  set  down  some  of  his 
last  and  dying  expressions,  whicli  I  had  from  those  who  were 
then  present,  and  caused  write  down  the  same  from  his  mouth; 
that  may  show  how  lovely  also  he  was  in  his  death,  and  how 
well  that  did  correspond  with  his  former  life.  Some  of  his 
words  are  these: — "I  shall  shine,  I  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  and 
all  the  fair  company  with  him,  and  shall  have  my  large  share. 
It  is  no  easy  thing  to  be  a  Christian,  but  as  for  me  I  have  got 
the  victory,  and  Christ  is  holding  forth  his  arms  to  embrace 
me."  And  a  little  before  his  death,  after  some  fainting,  he 
saith,  "Now  I  feel,  I  believe,  I  enjoy,  I  rejoice;"  and  turning 
to  Mr.  Blair  then  present  he  said,  "  I  feed  on  manna,  I  have 
angels'  food,  my  eyes  shall  see  my  Redeemer;  I  know  that  he 
shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  on  the  earth,  and  I  shall  be  caught 
up  in  the  clouds  to  meet  him  in  the  air."  And  afterwards  he 
hath  these  words, — "  I  sleep  in  Christ,  and  when  I  awake  I 
shall  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness.  O  for  arms  to  embrace 
him !"  and  thus,  full  of  the  Spirit,  yea  as  it  were  overcome  with 
sensible  enjoyment,  he  breathes  out  his  soul,  his  last  words  be- 
ing— "Glory,  glory,  dwelleth  in  Immanuel's  land." 

'  I  shall  instance  also  Mr.  John  Welch,  whom  Mr.  Ruther- 
ford in  one  of  his  books  called  "that  heavenly  prophetical  and 
apostolic  man  of  God";  and  showeth  that  from  the  witnesses  of 


CHAP.  II.  5.  THE   BANQUET   OF   WINE.  179 

his  life  he  had  this  account,  that  of  every  twenty-four  hours 
he  gave  usually  eight  to  prayer,  if  other  necessary  and  urgent 
duties  did  not  hinder;  yea,  spent  many  days  and  nights  which 
he  set  apart  in  fasting  and  prayer. 

'Duriuo;  his  last  sickness  he  was  so  filled  and  overcome  with 
the  sensible  enjoyment  of  God,  that  he  was  sometimes  over- 
heard in  prayer  to  have  these  words,  "Lord,  hold  thine  hand; 
it  is  enough,  thy  servant  is  a  clay  vessel,  and  can  hold  no 
more." ' 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  not  straitened,  nor  his  mighty 
working  limited  to  ages  past.  In  our  first  ministtoal  labors 
our  lot  was  cast  in  one  of  nature's  retreats,  by  whose  sandy 
hollows  and  rocky  caverns  there  sometimes  'passed  the  glory 
of  the  Lord.'  All  but  alone  among  its  inhabitants  there  so- 
journed a  man  whom  God  himself  had  taught,  who  grew  in 
grace  like  a  tree  by  the  rivers  of  waters;  and  with  him  week 
by  week  we  sought  the  blessing  promised  unto  two  agreeing 
together  to  ask  in  the  name  of  Jesus.  He  was  in  the  prime  of 
manhood,  his  fine  countenance  stamped  with  the  double  im- 
pression of  meditation  and  intelligence,  yet  blooming  with  a 
glow  of  ruddy  health,  the  fruit  of  constant  out-door  labor. 
One  summer  evening,  the  moment  the  hour  allotted  to  prayer 
was  ended,  he  went  home  without  uttering  a  word,  and  with 
scarcely  any  sign  of  recognition  at  parting.  He  appeared  un- 
well, his  face  had  sunk,  the  bright  hue  of  his  cheek  was  pallid, 
he  looked  as  a  strong  man  ready  to  faint,  but  bearing  up  against 
some  physical  distress  that  all  but  overmastered  him,  as  if  a 
grain  added  to  the  pressure  would  have  broken  him  down. 
Partly  from  his  haste,  and  partly  from  his  obvious  aversion  to 
speak,  we  parted  without  exchanging  words;  but  without  any 
doubt  on  our  part  that  he  was  suffering  from  sickness.  The 
second  day  following,  when  we  hailed  him  at  some  distance  in 
the  fields  to  inquire  for  his  health,  it  was  after  much  reserve, 
and  only  by  successive  questions,  that  we  could  discover  the 
cause  of  the  apparent  distress.  You  seemed  unwell  when  we 
parted  the  night  before  last — were  you  sick?  Oh,  no.  AYere 
you  in  distress  of  mind?  No.  What  then?  Slowly  and  re- 
luctantly he  replied,  '  Vv'hen  ^vc  were  on  our  knees  I  was  so 

L 


180  THE   BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  5. 

filled  with  a  sense  of  the  love  of  God,  that  the  joy  was  too 
much  for  me — it  was  all  that  I  was  able  to  bear,  and  it  Avas 
Avith  a  struggle  that  I  did  not  sink  under  it.'  The  fact  itself 
was  obvious,  although  to  us  it  had  not  excited  the  least  sus- 
picion of  the  cause.  This  divine  love,  both  better  and  stronger 
than  Avine,  had  remained  Avith  him  all  the  night,  and,  though 
less  intensely,  throughout  the  next  day  and  the  night  folloAV- 
ing.  To  him  it  Avould  have  been  no  strange  sound,  but  the 
natural  utterance  of  his  heart,  and  the  most  exact  description 
of  his  mental  condition,  'Stay  me  Avith  flagons,  comfort  me 
Avith  apples,  for  I  am  sick  of  love.' 

Many  Avill  deride  both  the  language  of  the  Song,  and  the 
love  Avhich  it  indicates,  but  'behold  ye  despisers  and  Avonder 
and  perish;'  for  if  there  are  flagons  full  of  the  new  Avine  of  the 
kingdom,  and  if  his  people  shall  be  filled  'like  bowls,  and  as 
the  corners  of  the  altar,'  there  are  also  A-essels  of  Avrath  fitted 
to  destruction,  and  endured  by  God  Avith  much  long-suffering. 
Take  heed  that  you  be  not  among  them,  for  it  is  written  of 
them,  'E\'ery  bottle  shall  be  filled  with  Avine,  and  I  will  dash 
them  one  against  another,  even  the  fathers  and  the  sons  to- 
gether, saith  the  Lord;  I  will  not  pity,  nor  spare,  nor  have 
mercy,  but  destroy  them.  Be  not  proud,  for  the  Lord  hath 
spoken;  give  glory  to  the  Lord  before  he  cause  darkness,  and 
before  your  feet  stumble  on  the  dark  mountains,  and  Avhile  ye 
look  for  light  he  turn  it  into  the  shadow  of  death,  and  make 
it  gross  darkness'  (Jer.  xiiij.  But  for  the  Lord's  poor  ones 
that  tremble  at  his  Avord,  and  instead  of  such  OA'erflo wing  joys 
have  scarcely  faint  gleams  of  gladness,  there  are  the  sure 
promises  that  'to  him  Avho  hath  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall 
have  more;'  and  that  'blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  their 
sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy,' — lasting  joy  in  heaven,  for 
on  earth  such  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost  cannot  have  long  con- 
tinuance. 

Great  joys  are  all  at  once, 
But  little  do  reserve  themselves  for  more; 
Those  are  at  home — these  journey  still, 
And  meet  the  rest  on  Zion's  hill. — Herbert. 


CHAP.  II.  6.  THE   HANDS   OF  THE   KING.  181 


THE  HANDS  OF  THE  KING. 

His  left  hand  is  under  my  head,  and  Jiis  right  hand  doth  cm- 
brace  me. — The  fainting  soul  has  received  from  Christ  himself 
the  support  it  requires,  for  his  left  hand  is  under  the  head; 
the  soul  is  thus  sustained  from  swooning  under  that  excess  of 
joy,  and  the  joy  itself  is  no  longer  insupportable.  The  left 
hand  is  that  which  is  inferior,  by  which  the  love  which  the 
Lord  cherishes,  and  the  honor  he  bestows,  are  less  fully  mani- 
fested than  by  the  right.  The  hand  of  providence,  we  may 
understand  it,  as  distinguished  from  the  hand  of  grace ;  the  left 
hand  of  outward  care,  in  distinction  from  the  right  hand  of 
inward  love;  and  also  the  left  hand  of  secret  support,  in  contrast 
with  the  right  of  open  acknowledgment.  In  reality  these  two 
are  never  divided,  bat  each  is  near  the  other,  but  in  appearance 
and  in  sensible  perception  they  are  frequently  separate.  Some- 
times there  is  only  the  support  of  the  Lord's  left  hand,  his 
unseen  arm  protecting  outwardly  and  sustaining  spiritually, 
wliile  there  is  no  joy  of  love,  no  free  fellowship  of  the  Spirit, 
no  right  hand  embracing.  At  other  times  there  is  the  joy  of 
Christ  remaining  in  the  soul,  and  the  joy  of  the  soul  full;  yet 
in  the  midst  of  such  outward  trouble  and  oppression,  as  if  the 
left  hand  were  scarcely  sustaining  but  rather  smiting,  while 
the  right  hand  embraces.  But  here  are  both — there  is  no  out- 
ward trouble,  or  none  interfering  with  the  divine  consolation, 
so  that  the  shielding  and  upholding  hand  of  providence  is 
distinctly  and  thankfully  felt;  while  there  is  the  smile  of  di- 
vine love,  the  embrace  of  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord.  In  such 
a  case  what  more,  what  else  has  the  soul  to  desire?  Nothing 
save  continuance,  nothing  except  a  universal  restraint  from 
disturbing  the  holy  rest  of  the  Lord,  and  moving  him  to  arise 
ere  it  is  his  own  pleasure  to  depart. 

It  will  not  fail  to  be  remarked,  that  while  the  charge  not  to 
disturb  the  rest  of  the  Beloved  occurs  thrice  in  the  Song,  Hhe 
left  hand  under  the  head  Avitli  the  right  hand  embracing/  is 
never  found  in  its  fulness  except  this  once;  for  although  it 
passes  into  similar  repose,  these  tokens,  when  repeated  in  the 


182  THE  BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  6. 

eighth  chapter,  are  not  actual  but  conditional  (viii.  3).  This 
quite  accords  both  with  the  fainting  of  the  soul  through  excess 
of  joy,  which  is  likewise  nowhere  else,  and  with  the  rapture  of 
the  aged  Simeon  in  the  temple  when  he  took  the  infant  Jesus 
in  his  arms.  Reversed,  indeed,  the  outward  attitude  may  ap- 
pear, for  it  is  the  prophet's  left  hand  under  the  Redeemer's 
head  and  his  right  embracing  the  Holy  Child ;  but  well  he 
knew  that  the  real  sustaining  and  embracing  arms  were  not 
his  enfolding  Christ,  but  Christ's  enfolding  him.  Never  in 
all  the  Gospel  history  does  the  Incarnate  Word  seem  quite,  so 
nigh  as  now, — never  so  fulfilled  the  prayer,  *■  let  him  kiss  me 
with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth' — never  any  soul  so  near  to 
swooning  away  through  excess  of  joy  and  love — never,  it  may 
be,  eye  on  earth  so  satisfied  with  seeing,  'for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  thy  salvation.' 

But  we  must  not  omit  a  view  of  the  Lord's  left  hand  under 
the  head,  taken  by  some  of  the  early  Fathers,  from  the  left 
hand  representing  punishment  in  the  great  day  of  account. 
(Theod.)  Understanding  the  right  as  honor,  favor,  love;  and 
the  left  as  wrath,  retribution,  judgment;  we  behold  the  believer 
in  a  glorious  rest,  with  vengeance  itself  for  the  pillow  on  which 
he  placidly  reposes.  It  is  justice  satisfied,  judgment  executed, 
vengeance  fulfilled,  curse  completed.  There  is  no  left  hand 
upraised  any  more  to  smite,  no  left  hand  to  023en  the  door  of 
the  bottomless  abyss  with  the  doom,  'Depart  from  me,  ye 
cursed.'  The  trasgression  is  finished,  the  displeasure  removed, 
the  curse  exhausted,  and  there  is  no  pillow  on  which  the  soul 
can  sleep  either  so  safely  or  so  sweetly.  Yea,  it  is  the  pierced 
hand  of  the  great  Shepherd  himself  that  upholds  the  head; 
the  print  of  the  nail  is  on  it,  fit  rest  for  the  weary  and  heavy 
laden  sinner.  Ah!  how  many  rest  with  no  left  hand  of  the 
Lord  beneath  them;  what  a  troubled,  unsettled  repose  is  theirs, 
how  insecure,  how  unholy,  how  deceptive!  'Awake  thou  that 
sleepest  thus,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give 
thee  light.'  Then  first  will  you  dare  to  grasp  the  right  hand 
of  love  and  favor,  when  you  have  believed  and  rested  on  the 
left  hand  of  judgment  executed,  or  else  you  will  embrace  them 
both  together;  and  then  alike  in  trust  and  in  triumph  will 


CHAP.  II.  7.  THE   HINDS   OF   THE   FIELD.  183 

you  exclaim,  'His  left  hand  is  under  my  head,  and  his  right 
hand  doth  embrace  me.' 

THE   HINDS   OF  THE   FIELD. 

/  charge  you,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes  and  by 
the  hinds  of  the  field,  that  ye  stir  not  up  nor  awake  my  love  till  he 
please. — This  is  no  oath  by  the  hinds  of  the  fields,  but  a  solemn 
charge  with  the  strength  of  an  oath,  to  act  as  cautiously  as 
with  the  roes  and  hinds — '  I  charge  you  as  among  the  roes  and 
among  the  hinds  of  the  field,  so  not  to  awake  my  love.'     It  is 
a  charge  to  the  attending  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  and  a  charge 
to  herself,  doubtless,  as  well  as  to  them,  with  allusion  to  the 
great  care  observed  in  the  East  against  intrusion  upon  the 
sleep  of  any,  but  esj)ecially  of  one  held  in  high  honor.     It  is 
an  exhortation  not  to  awaken  the  soul's  Beloved  till  he  please, 
because  there  is  a  limit  to  his  resting  in  love,  and  that  limit 
is  his  own  pleasure;  or  more  correctly  the  exhortation  is,  not 
to  stir  up  nor  awake  Love,  or  this  love  until  it  please — until 
love  itself  shall  please.    But  the  love  that  is  not  to  be  disturbed 
is  chiefly  that  of  the  Beloved,  so  that  the  awakening  of  this 
love  and  of  this  Beloved  is  the  same.     It  indicates,  however, 
the  soul's  love  to  Christ  as  well  as  Christ's  love  to  the  soul ; 
and  the  full  meaning  appears  to  be,  the  rest  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  love,  both  in  Christ  upon  the  soul,  and  in  the  soul  upon 
Christ.     In  the  two  other  repetitions  of  this  charge,  this  ex- 
pression is  repeated  (iii.  5;  viii.  4);  while  elsewhere  in  the  Song 
the  very  same  expression  is  never  employed  except  in  the  as- 
severation that  many  waters  cannot  quench  love  (viii.  7).    Now 
the  apostle  Paul,  in  a  passage  exactly  parallel  on  the  inde- 
structible character  of  love,  asks  who  shall  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  Christ  (Rom.  viii.  35);  which  appears  to  signify 
Christ's  love  to  us;  but  the  following  words,  'for  thy  sake  we 
are  killed  all  day  long,'  proves  it  to  include  also  our  love  to 
Christ.     So,  here,  it  is  a  solemn  charge  not  to  grieve  the 
present  Holy  Spirit  in  Him  communing  with  us, — in  us  com- 
muning with  him. 

It  is  impossible  for  language  or  imagery  to  convey  more 
strongly  the  care  that  ought  to  be  taken  not  to  grieve  the  Holy 


184  THE   BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  IL  7. 

Spirit,  nor  offend  Christ;  not  in  any  way  whatever,  not  by 
any  provocation,  however  seemingly  slight,  to  move  him  to 
leave  his  quiet  rest  in  the  soul.  The  roes  and  hinds  are  re- 
markably swift  to  flee  from  their  pursuer,  intently  watcliful  to 
discover  his  approach,  singularly  quick  to  catch  the  least  noise 
that  indicates  danger.  Men  unaccustomed  to  the  habits  of 
these  creatures  have  no  likelihood  of  taking  them  in  hunting, 
and  chiefly  because  they  can  form  no  conception  of  the  exceed- 
ing care  and  the  breathless  stillness  with  which  they  must  be 
approached  by  the  huntsman.  Exactly  thus  is  there  nothing 
more  observable  in  young  converts  who  have  recently  found 
Christ,  or  inquirers  after  him  like  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
than  their  ignorance  how  easily  the  Spirit  present,  or  the 
Spirit  waiting  to  be  gracious,  is  disturbed  so  as  to  withdraw. 
As  with  most  men  to  employ  the  huntsman's  watchfulness 
with  the  roes  and  the  hinds  of  the  field  would  be  a  new  art  to 
learn,  and  a  new  life  to  lead;  so  with  all  men  it  is  much  more 
new  to  acquire  the  holy  wisdom  of  not  disturbing  the  rest  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  twenty-second  Psalm,  descrip- 
tive of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  the  marginal  title  is  'The  Hind 
of  the  morning,'  which  is  Jesus  whom  the  Psalm  describes  as 
hunted  to  death  by  the  dogs  and  lions;  in  the  eighteenth 
Psalm  he  says  that  God  Mias  made  his  feet  like  the  feet  of 
hinds';  and  in  the  next  verse  of  this  Song  the  Beloved  is  re- 
presented as  a  roe  upon  tlio  mountains.  Here  it  is  the  same 
roe,  not  pursued  by  the  dogs,  not  skipping  over  the  hills,  but 
quietly  reposing,  yet  with  a  rest  most  watchful,  and  quickly 
broken  by  the  slightest  sound. 

Take  the  case  of  a  huntsman  with  his  family  hanging  upon 
him  for  food,  with  his  arrows  all  but  spent  in  the  quiver,  with 
the  roes  of  the  field  either  seen  at  a  great  distance,  or  suspected 
to  lurk  within  a  certain  range.  What  disregard  of  everything 
else  but  keeping  the  eye  fixed  upon  the  critical  spot ;  stones 
cut  the  feet,  waters  chill  them,  brambles  tear  them — he  regards 
it  not,  he  feels  it  not,  he  even  knows  it  not!  A  hundred  at- 
tractions may  surround  him,  flowers,  trees,  j^alaces,  songs  of 
birds,  but  they  are  all  unseen  and  unheard.  Have  the  hinds 
been  disturbed,  is  the  one  inquiry;  can  the  eye  still  discover 


CHAP.  II.  7.  THE    HINDS    OF    THE  FIELD.  185 

tliera,  or  is  the  grass  or  brushwood  that  conceals  them  still 
iinmoveci?  Soul!  in  quest  of  the  hind  of  the  morning,  in  search 
of  Jesus,  even  thus  must  thou  seek  if  thou  wouldst  ever  find  : 
heedless  of  a  hundred  hindrances  and  hurts  by  the  Avay,  blind 
to  a  hundred  attractions,  and  deaf  to  a  hundred  allurements. 

In  such  a  search,  either  of  two  errors  is  certain  loss  of  the 
prize — presumption  or  despair.  If,  presuming  that  the  roe 
will  not  be  disturbed,  will  not  see,  will  not  hear,  the  huntsman 
walks  lightly  and  rashly  forward,  all  is  lost.  How  anxious  will  he 
be  rather  to  err  in  carefulness,  Avhen  so  much  rests  on  the  issue ! 
Inquiring  soul!  presume  not;  say  not  in  thine  heart,  I  may 
walk  securely  for  there  is  no  fear  of  grieving  the  Spirit,  or  of 
losing  Christ;  presumption  is  certain  and  fatal  loss.  Fixed 
desire  must  there  be,  but  along  with  it  unwearied  patience; 
proof  against  rashness,  proof  equally  against  despair.  How 
oft  has  the  huntsman  lost  all  his  pains  by  giving  over  the  pur- 
suit in  despair.  Careful  as  long  as  he  hoped — advancing  step 
by  step  as  cautiously  as  if  life  hung  on  every  footstep,  he  has 
draM'n  near  and  has  not  found — now  at  last  he  has  come  up 
to  and  passed  over  the  very  spot  where  the  roe  was  thought 
to  rest,  and  it  is  not  there — he  walks  heedlessly  on,  the  next 
moment  it  starts  at  his  feet,  and  bounds  away  into  its  own 
liberty  far  from  his  unprepared  arrow.  How  many  immortal 
souls  have  so  come  short  of  everlasting  life,  giving  over  the 
pursuit  as  hopeless,  because  the  place  seemed  past,  or  tlie  season 
past  on  which  they  had  reckoned,  and  so  losing  Christ  when 
almost  within  their  arms — their  sin  and  folly  displeasing  and 
disturbing  him,  so  that  he  hid  himself  from  their  eyes! 

These  remarks,  applied  to  the  pursuit  of  the  Beloved  when 
sought,  admit  of  easy  transference  to  the  retention  of  the  Be- 
loved when  found;  which  is  represented  as  requiring  the  very 
same  care — the  same  breathless  lip,  the  same  watchful  eye,  the 
same  listening  ear,  the  same  circumspect  step,  because  though 
in  the  text  the  object  is  that  of  retaining  Christ,  the  image  is 
that  of  capturing  the  roes  and  hinds  of  the  field.  O  succoured 
and  favored  child  of  God,  remember  the  wise  man's  savino- 
that  'the  sluggard  roasteth  not  that  which  he  took  in  hunting.' 
Having  spent  ranch  time  and  bestowed  hard  labor  to  take  the 


186  THE   BANQUET-HALL.  CHAP.  II.  7. 

prey,  he  is  too  indolent  to  add  the  slight  additional  pains  re- 
quisite to  prepare  it  for  food,  but  having  once  secured  it,  he 
sleeps  and  leaves  it  to  be  devoured  by  the  dogs.  When  you 
Jiave  sought  hard  to  find  Christ,  have  pursued  swiftly,  followed 
far  and  overtaken,  grudge  not  the  needful  diligence  and  cir- 
cumspection to  retain  him  when  found;  but  be  assured  that 
such  care  is  as  necessary  to  preserve  his  presence,  as  your  hard  la- 
bor was  to  secure  it.  Charge  therefore  all  around  you — believers, 
inquirers,  friends,  strangers,  that  they  rob  you  not  of  this  your 
prize,  that  they  interfere  not  between  you  and  your  Beloved, 
that  they  intrude  not  with  distracting  words  or  worldly  ways. 
Charge  your  own  soul  neither  to  court  nor  to  suffer  the  dis- 
traction of  your  heart  by  other  gods,  of  your  seasons  of  devotion 
by  other  pleasures  or  other  cares,  of  your  devotions  themselves 
by  other  thoughts.  'I  charge  you,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusa- 
lem, by  the  roes,  and  by  the  hinds  of  the  field,  that  ye  stir  not 
up  nor  awake  my  love  till  he  please.' 

I  charge  you,  all  ye  earthly  toys, 
Approach  not  to  disturb  my  joys; 
I  charge  my  sins  not  once  to'move, 
Nor  stir,  nor  wake,  nor  grieve  my  love. 

Watts. 


CHAP.  II.  8,  9.       THE  ROE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS.  187 


IX. 

THE  ROE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS— THE  GLIMPSE 
THROUGH  THE  LATTICE. 

The  voice  of  my  beloved !  behold,  he  cometh  leaping  upon  the  mount- 
ains, skipping  upon  the  hills.  My  beloved  is  like  a  roe,  or  a  young  hart: 
behold,  he  standeth  behind  our  wall,  he  looketh  forth  [or  through]  at 
the  windows,  showing  himself  through  the  lattice. — Chap,  ii,  8,  9. 

THE   ROE   UPON  THE   MOUNTAINS. 

The  voice  of  my  Beloved!  behold,  he  cometh  leaping  upon  the 
mountains,  skipping  upon  the  hills. — '  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  at  hand/  is  the  evident  subject  of  this  whole  passage;  the 
king  of  heaven  as  coming.  The  Bride  of  Iraraanuel  has  slum- 
bered in  a  long  repose ;  first  in  a  quiet  holy  rest  in  the  Spirit, 
but  that  has  passed  away  as  on  earth  it  must  ever  pass ;  and  the 
repose  of  grace  has  been  succeeded  by  the  listlessness  and 
slumber  of  nature  and  of  sin.  After  midnight,  and  along  with 
the  first  streaks  of  morning  to  which  sleep  renders  her  insen- 
sible, she  is  awoke  by  the  sudden  cry,  'Behold,  the  Bridegroom 
cometh'!  It  is  'the  voice  of  him  that  cried  in  the  wilderness, 
Behold,  there  cometh  One  after  me,  prepare  ye  the  way  of  the 
Lord,  and  make  his  paths  straight.'  It  is  the  voice  of  the 
Bridegroom  himself  through  the  lips  of  the  crier,  his  humble 
herald,  'the  Bridegroom's  friend  rejoicing  greatly  in  his  own 
soul  because  of  the  Bridegroom's  voice,'  and  reporting  his 
words  to  the  slumbering  Church;  an  awakening  voice,  break- 
ing the  long  sleep,  and  preparing  the  Bride  to  welcome  her 
King  and  her  God. 

In  the  wilderness  of  Sinai  it  was  '  the  voice  of  the  trumpet 
exceeding  loud'  calling  to  assembled  Israel,  the  Lord's  be- 
trothed— Prepare  to  meet  thy  God!  Then  'He  came  down, 
his  feet  touched  the  mountains,  they  trembled  and  shook,  the 
perpetual  hills  did  bow;  like  lambs  the  mountains  skipped. 


188  THE  ROE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS.       CHAP.  II.  8. 

and  the  little  hills  like  rams  at  the  presence  of  the  Lord/  be- 
cause he  'came  skipping  on  those  mountains,  and  leaping  on 
those  hills.'  In  the  wilderness  of  Judea  it  was  but  the  voice 
of  a  man  with  camel's  hair  for  his  clothing,  with  leather  for 
his  girdle,  with  the  locust  and  the  wild  honey  for  his  food. 
But  he  came  'in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah,'  and  belbre  him 
shook  and  bowed,  not  the  mountains  of  earth,  but  the  harder 
rocks  of  earthly  and  stony  hearts.  In  God's  name,  with  a 
loud  voice  as  Sinai's  trumpet,  yet  loving  as  the  jubilee's  silver 
sound,  he  proclaimed,  'Every  valley  shall  be  exalted,  and 
every  mountain  and  hill  shall  be  made  low.'  And  why?  be- 
cause 'He  cometh  leaping  upon  the  mountains,  and  skipping 
upon  the  hills';  for  4he  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed, 
and  all  flesh  shall  see  it  together.' 

Taking  the  passage  of  the  individual  believing  soul,  there 
is  no  special  reason  to  conclude  that  the  Bride  had  broken  her 
own  solemn  charge,  and  had  disturbed  her  Beloved  before  he 
pleased;  although  his  departure  in  his  own  time,  and  according 
to  his  sovereign  will,  has  been  succeeded  by  the  sleep  of  sin. 
It  is,  indeed,  too  rarely  that  Christ's  own  pleasure  is  made  by 
the  Bride  the  rule  of  this  holy  repose;  for  his  rest  in  the  souls 
of  his  people  is  disturbed  by  the  restlessness  of  sin,  of  vanity, 
of  fickleness  within  them.  Yet  he  is  sovereign  in  his  gifts, 
and  at  his  own  time  he  does  withdraw,  irrespectively  of  provo- 
cation on  their  part.  But  there  are  few  that  wait  patiently 
on  him  when  he  has  withdrawn,  and  therefore  the  common 
result  of  his  absence  is  sj)iritual  torpor. 

This  coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus  is,  very  distinctly,  of  his  own 
free  grace — '  I  am  found  of  them  that  sought  me  not;'  yet  such 
finding  is  always  either  preceded  or  followed  by  inquiry,  for 
'  I  am  sought  for  by  them  that  asked  not  after  me.'  The  Bride 
is  suddenly  visited  and  called  upon  by  Christ,  not  undesired, 
yet  not  earnestly  sought;  but  ere  he  is  fully  found  again  at 
the  close  of  this  particular  song,  there  is  the  searching  for  him 
with  the  whole  heart,  and  soul,  and  strength.  Meanwhile, 
even  in  this  slumber  there  is  no  such  deadness  of  sleep  as  to 
prevent  the  soul  hearing  the  voice  of  the  great  Shepherd,  rec- 
ognising it,  and  responding.      In  the  second  and  far  more 


CHAP.  II.  8,  9.      THE  ROE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS.  189 

sinful  sleep,  tlie  voice  is  also  heard  and  known,  but  sleep  for 
the  moment  is  sweeter  than  Jesus  (v.  2);  but  not  so  here,  foi- 
the  recognition  is  alert  and  joyful,  according  Avith  what  the 
Beloved  himself  declares,  'My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  know  my 
voice,  and  know  not  the  voice  of  strangers.'  It  is  the  voice  of 
strangers  that  awakens  the  world,  and  that  awakens  the  Bride 
of  the  Lamb  when  she  has  become  the  friend  of  the  world. 
The  voice  of  thy  Beloved,  what  is  it — who  is  thy  Beloved,  and 
what  is  his  voice?  How  quick  in  the  worldling's  ear,  and  how 
awakening,  sounds  the  voice  of  gain,  the  voice  of  honor,  the 
voice  of  pleasure,  the  voice  of  rivalry;  and  how  soon  the  soul 
is  up  and  in  action  in  answer  to  such  a  call!  Blessed  art  thou 
if  thou  dost  swiftly  hear,  quickly  recognise,  and  alertly  respond 
to  the  word  of  Jesus  when  it  greeteth  thee,  exclaiming — The 
voice  of  my  Beloved!'  and  'rejoicing  greatly  because  of  thy 
Bridegroom's  voice.' 

Leaping  upon  the  mountains,  skipping  upon  the  hills,  my  Be- 
loved i§  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart. — The  emblem  of  the  hart  or 
roe  is  not  only  used  afterwards  by  the  saints  of  themselves, 
through  their  likeness  to  the  Lord,  as  when  Habakkuk  ex- 
presses his  confidence  that  God  'will  make  his  feet  like  those 
of  hinds,'  but  had  already  been  applied  in  the  Psalms  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  'Hind  of  the  morning'  is  the  marginal 
rendering  of  'Aijeleth  Shahar'  in  the  title  of  the  twenty-second 
Psalm,  and  presents  a  beautiful  emblem  of  Jesus  in  the  day  of 
his  sorrow — sought  out  and  hunted  by  a  multitude  of  dogs, 
encircled  by  the  bulls  of  the  mountains,  and  the  unicorns  from 
the  rivers,  tossed  and  goaded  by  their  terrible  horns,  and  then 
roared  upon  with  open  mouth  by  the  devouring  lion.  The 
same  hind  of  the  morning  who  was  then  beset  by  the  wild 
beasts  of  the  night,  is  here  described  as  appearing  on  the 
mountain  tops  with  the  first  dawn  of  day,  and,  like  the  sun- 
beams themselves,  glancing  from  hill  to  hill.  In  like  manner, 
in  the  eighteenth  Psalm,  in  which  he  speaks  of  himself  as  the 
Lord's  King  and  Anointed,  and  i\\Q  Head  of  the  heathen,  the 
Messiah  employs  the  same  image  as  in  the  Song—'  It  is  God 
that  girdeth  me  with  strength,  and  makcth  my  way  perfect- 
he  maketh  my  feet  like  hijids'  feet,  and  setteth  me  upon  my 


190  THE  EOE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS.      CHAP.  II.  8,  9. 

high  places;  thou  hast  enlarged  my  steps  under  me  that  my 
feet  did  not  slip.' 

The  figure  implies  intense  desire,  indicated  by  corresponding 
speed  toward  its  object.  It  is  'Lo,  I  come,  I  delight  to  do 
thy  will;'  it  is  'with  desire  I  have  desired  to  eat  this  passover 
with  you.'  Superhuman  strength,  energy,  activity,  are  found 
in  him;  he  cometh  'leaping  upon  the  mountains,  skipping 
upon  the  hills,'  overcoming  all  obstacles,  mountains  inaccessi- 
ble for  height,  ravines  impassable  for  breadth  and  depth.  The 
course  set  before  the  first  man  was  straight  and  level,  though 
it  called  for  strength  to  overtake  the  distance,  and  for  watch- 
fulness to  run  between  its  even  lines;  but  before  the  Second 
Man  was  placed  a  course  in  which  sin  had  raised  dark  moun- 
tains, and  cut  deep  gulfs  of  separation  between  the  human 
family  and  their  God.  Jesus  the  Son  of  Man  took  man's  po- 
sition, and  started  in  the  race  from  the  very  point  where  man 
now  stood,  or  rather  where  he  now  lay  fallen  and  helpless ; 
without  the  camp,  without  the  gate,  amongst  the  unclean,  num- 
bered with  transgressors.  Beneath  our  curse,  and  from  our 
distance,  the  Strong  One  rejoicing  started  for  the  race;  first  to 
go  thence  to  God  for  us,  and  then  from  Him  to  return  with 
good  tidings  for  all  people.  Sinai's  mountain  with  thunder, 
and  lightning,  and  earthquake  of  Jehovah's  wrath — Sinai's 
wilderness  with  fiery  serpents  of  Satan's  darts — Jordan's  deep 
floods  of  cold  heartlessness  and  hatred  in  us,  and  of  accursed 
death  with  its  dark  and  bitter  waters, — all  lay  between  the 
starting-point  and  the  goal.  But  lo,  he  cometh  rejoicing  for 
the  race,  delighting  to  do  the  will  of  God  unto  sacrifice  and 
death,  desiring  to  eat  the  passover  with  his  own  blood  for  its 
"wine-cup,  consumed  by  the  zeal  of  his  Father's  house,  despis- 
ing the  shame  for  the  joy  set  before  him  in  the  redemption  of 
his  chosen  Bride.  Well  indeed  may  she  exclaim  as  she  sees 
him  approach,  leaping  upon  the  mountains,  skipping  upon  the 
hills — 'My  beloved  is  like  a  young  roe  or  a  young  hart.' 
Simply,  yet  not  without  deep  meaning,  has  one  of  the  bridal 
virgins  expressed  the  gratitude  of  the  rescued  soul : — 

When  manifold  obstructions  met, 
My  willing  Saviour  made 


CHAP.  II.  8,  9.       THE  ROE  UPON  THE  MOUNTAINS.  191 

A  stepping-stone  of  every  let, 

That  in  bis  way  was  laid, — ErsHne. 

This  combinatioii  of  strength,  of  zeal,  and  activity  is  finely 
illustrated  by  a  kindred  figure  in  these  words  of  the  110th 
Psalm,  -'he  shall  drink  of  the  brook  in  the  way,  therefore  shall 
he  lift  up  the  head.'  The  image  seems  to  refer  to  Gideon's 
famed  three  hundred,  who  bowed  not  down  on  their  knees  to 
drink ;  but  like  soldiers  ardent  for  the  battle,  alert  and  strong, 
merely  drank  of  the  brook  by  the  way,  without  resting  or  stoop- 
ing, or  almost  halting  to  refresh  themselves.  It  is  impossible 
to  witness  the  Gideon-like  act  and  attitude  without  being  struck 
as  with  a  most  lively  image  and  token  of  warlike  activity. 
The  faithful  messenger  from  the  mountains  of  a  southern  land 
is  seen  hasting  as  with  the  feet  of  hinds  under  a  burning  sun, 
and,  parched  with  thirst,  crossing  a  brook  in  the  way.  He  stoops 
not  his  head,  rests  not  on  his  knees,  but  with  one  limb  bent 
beneath  him — preserving  the  attitude  not  of  rest  or  ease,  but 
rather  of  a  leaper  or  runner  ready  to  start — with  his  face  still 
erect  towards  the  heavens,  he  dips  his  right  hand  in  the  flowing 
brook  and  lapping  with  it  rapidly,  'as  a  dog  laps'  with  his 
tono-ue,  he  pours  through  his  opened  lips  a  continuous  stream 
of  water  that  quickly  quenches  his  thirst.  The  moment  be- 
I'ore,  he  had  caught  your  eye  ere  he  reached  the  brook,  and 
while  you  wonder  at  the  action  and  try  to  observe  its  process, 
he  is  already  onward  and  away  as  on  the  feet  of  hinds;  for  he 
had  not  stooped  on  his  knees  to  the  water,  but  had  '  drunk  of 
the  brook  by  the  way.'  Even  such,  so  zealous  and  so  swift  a 
messenger  of  the  Lord  of  hosts,  coming  suddenly,  was  Christ 
Jesus  in  the  days  of  his  flesh;  the  Bride's  Beloved,  'like  a  roe 
or  a  vouno;  hart,'  with  his  'meat  and  his  drink  to  do  the  will 
ofhis  Father,  and  finish  his  work.'  He  is  '  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  for  ever';  so  loving  to  come  down  from  the 
hill  of  Zion  for  the  least  of  all  his  little  ones;  so  speedy  to 
intervene  between  us  and  every  evil : — 

The  voice  of  my  Beloved  sounds. 
Over  the  rocks  and  rising  grounds ; 
O'er  hills  of  guilt,  and  seas  of  grief, 
He  leaps,  he  flies  to  my  relief. —  Watts. 


192  THE  GLIMPSE  THROUGH  THE  LATTICE.        CHAP.  U.  9. 


THE  GLIMPSE  THKOUGH  THE  LATTICE. 

Behold,  he  standeth  behind  our  wcdl,  he  loohcth  forth  at  the 
icindows,  shewing  himself  through  the  lattice. — The  Beloved  is 
first  heard  by  his  voice  awaking  the  soul  out  of  sleep,  next  he 
is  beheld  on  the  distant  mountains,  then  ihe  intervening  space 
is  surmounted  with  the  swiftness  of  the  roe,  and  he  is  seen 
close  at  hand  behind  the  wall,  for  lie  ^cometh  suddenly  into 
his  temple.'  It  is  ever  the  Lord's  way  ;  long  promised,  long 
expected,  long  deferred  his  visit,  but  sudden  at  the  end.  So 
is  it  in  the  day  of  his  coming  in  the  flesh,  in  his  coming  in  the 
Spirit  at  Pentecost,  so  in  glory  coming  at  the  last  day  like  a 
thief.  In  like  manner  he  often  comes  in  his  first  entrance  into 
the  lost  soul ;  the  wind  hath  blown  where  it  listed,  the  Spirit 
asjie  willed,  the  sound  is  heard,  and  the  soul  Ls  already  born 
again ;  but  it  marvels  at  the  vast  and  sudden  change,  at  the 
blessed  command,  ^Zaccheus,  come  down!  to-day  I  must  abide 
at  thy  house.'  So  also  in  future  visits ;  denied,  delayed,  al- 
most despaired  of,  then  the  voice  suddenly  heard,  the  distant 
form  s{?en,  and  in  a  moment  the  soul's  beloved  at  the  very  wall 
of  the  dwelling,  knocking  at  the  door  and  entering  within  the 
heart. 

The  figurative  wall  is  taken  by  some  interpreters  for  a  ]ied»-(;, 
through  whose  interlaced  branches  the  Bridegroom  can  be 
partially  seen;  but  is  certainly,  rather,  a  wall  of  stone,  beside 
the  openings  or  gates  of  which,  or  even  over  its  cope,  he  is  dis- 
covered appearing  and  then  disaj^pearing.  Next  he  looketh 
forth  at  the  windows,  or  rather  looketh  through  them,  for  he 
is  obviously  without;  showing  himself  through  the  lattice,  be- 
ing still  partially  concealed  by  the  lattice-work  which  in  the 
absence  of  glass  served  for  a  protection,  and  in  the  heat  of  the 
sun  for  a  screen.  So  the  voice  of  Jesus  was  heard  by  the 
ancient  Church  speaking  through  the  prophets;  so  with  the 
eye  of  faith  afar  off  his  form  was  seen  by  Abraham  through 
mountains  of  intervening  ages,  making  him  glad;  and  by  tlie 
patriarch  of  U^,  when  *he  knew  that  his  Redeemer  lived  and 
that  he  should  see  him  for  himself  and  not.  for  another.'    But 


CHAP.  II.  9.        THE  GLIMPSE  THROUGH  THE  LATTICE.  193 

at  intervals  he  drew  nearer,  and,  as  by  glimpses  from  behind 
the  wall,  was  seen,  like  a  wayfaring  man  taking  to  him  the 
human  or  angelic  form,  and  talking  with  Abraham,  with 
Joshua,  with  the  wife  of  Manoah.  So,  likewise,  through  the 
latticed  window  of  types  and  shadows,  of  ceremonies  and  sacri- 
fices, did  he  show  himself  to  Israel.  Even  in  the  cloud  of 
glory  that  went  before  them,  and  rested  over  the  Ark  of  the 
Covenant,  he  was  both  seen  and  hid — more  glory  indeed  seen 
than  could  be  looked  upon,  yet  himself  partially  revealed  in 
that  brightness.  Then  beside  the  waters  of  Jordan,  more  nearly 
and  more  clearly  far  than  ever  before,  does  he  begin  to  reveal 
himself,  and  the  Baptist  to  discover  and  proclaim  his  approach. 
But  it  is  not  yst  in  the  broad  light  of  day,  walking  and  teach- 
ing in  the  midst  of  the  Church ;  but  rather  hid  than  seen,  more 
unknown  than  recognised.  'There  standeth  one  in  the  midst 
of  you  whom  ye  know  not;  and  I  knew  him  not.'  He  is 
standing  also  behind  a  wall  which  lie  is  soon  to  break  down, 
the  middle  wall  of  partition,  the  law  of  commandments  against 
us  which  he  is  to  remove  by  his  cross;  and,  through  the  rent 
veil  of  his  flesh,  make  an  opening  to  the  Father  withiu  the 
holiest  of  all.  When  at  length  the  Church  on  earth  beheld 
the  Beloved,  she  'saw  indeed  his  glory  as  of  the  only  begotten 
of  the  Father  full  of  grace  and  truth';  but,  even  then,  the  flesh 
which  he  took  was  a  veil  partially  concealing  the  very  God- 
head that  dwelt  within  it  bodily,  in  the  very  hour  and  by  the 
very  means  which  made  that  invisible  glory  manifest. 

And  now,  in  all  our  communion  with  him,  our  King,  and 
Bridegroom,  and  Beloved,  visits  us  at  transient  intervals;  'a 
little  while  seen  by  us,  and  again  a  little  not  seen,  because  he 
hath  gone  to  the  Father';  the  Spirit  breathing  as  he  willeth, 
coming  we  know  not  whence  and  revealing  Jesus,  but  going 
we  know  not  whither  and  leaving  Jesus  hid.  Now,  likewise, 
it  is  only  through  latticed  windows  that  we  see  him  at  all,  even 
when  the  vision  is  brightest.  By  the  eye  of  faith  through  the 
word,  through  the  sacraments,  through  prayer,  we  discern 
him;  yet  these  arc  but  lattices  of  divided  light  that  yield  a 
glimpse  but  no  full  vision  of  the  Beloved.;  at  once  disclosing 
and  concealing  the  Desire  of  our  eyes.     But  therefore  do  we 


194  THE  GLIMPSE  THEOUGH   THE   LATTICE.        CHAP.  II.  9. 

see  him  now  through  a  glass  darkly,  that  we  may  the  more 
earnestly  long  to  behold  him  face  to  face,  and  be  constrained 
to  say,  'Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly!'  Yet  beauteous 
windows  they  are  through  which  the  beloved  looks,  windows 
of  agates  and  gates  of  carbuncles,  bordered  with  pleasant  stones; 
lovely  lattices,  when  by  them  the  Bridegroom  shows  himself. 
Through  the  glass  and  the  grated  window  how  glorious  is  the 
glimpse  of  his  countenance,  and  how  sweet  are  his  smiles,  like 
sunbeams  after  rain;  Svheu  he  looketh  with  glorie  shining 
bright  through  the  windowes  of  his  worde,  and  grates  of  his 
sacraments'  (Fenner).  O  that  these  glimpses  were  more  de- 
sired, more  frequent,  and  more  abiding ! 

Through  lattices  that  light  divide, 

Through  glorious  gospel  lines, 
Through  veil  of  flesh,  through  pierced  side, 

His  love,  his  beauty  shines. — Erskine. 


CHAP.  II.  10-13.   THE  GARDEN  OF  FLOWERS.  196 


•  X. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  FLOWERS— THE  SONG  OF  BIRDS— THE 
VOICE  OF  THE  TURTLE. 

My  beloved  spake,  and  said  unto  me,  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one, 
and  come  away.  For,  lo,  the  winter  is  past;  the  rain  is  over  and  gone; 
the  flowers  appear  on  the  earth.  The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come; 
and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land.  The  fig-tree  putteth 
forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines  with  the  tender  graj)e  give  a  c/ood 
smell.     Arise,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away, — Chap.  ii.  10-13. 

THE   GARDEN   OF   FLOWERS. 

3Iy  beloved  spake,  and  said  unto  me,  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair 
one,  and  come  away.  For,  lo,  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over 
and  gone,  the  Jlowers  appear  on  the  eai'th.  The  Jig-tree  putteth 
forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines  icith  the  tender  grape  give  a 
good  smell.  *  Arise,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away. — This 
is  the  first  vineyard  or  garden  of  the  king  described  in  the 
song,  for  the  previous  references  have  been  only  to  the  unkept 
vineyard  of  the  Bride,  and  to  her  servile  dressing  of  the  vine- 
yard of  strangers.  Her  own  vineyard  in  the  garden  of  Eden 
she  had  not  kept,  and  the  tempest  of  the  Lord's  anger  had 
laid  it  desolate ;  but  He  has  now  prepared  a  new  Paradise  on 
her  behalf,  a  garden  let  down  from  heaven  to  earth,  enclosino- 
every  tree  that  is  pleasant  to  the  sight  and  good  for  food,  the 
tree  of  life  also  in  the  midst  of  the  garden.  Looking  down 
from  above  he  pronounces  it  very  good;  through  the  opened 
curtains  of  his  chambers  in  the  heavens  he  declares  himself 
'  well  pleased.'  Not  matured  as  yet  Is  this  new  garden's  ample 
fruit,  but  already  blooming  in  all  the  beauty  and  with  all  the 
promise  of  a  most  genial  spring;  and  the  Bride  is  invited  not 
merely  to  visit,  but  to  enter  and  possess  it  as  her  own. 

1.  The  invitation  announces  that  winter  with  its  deadenin*'- 
cold  is  past,  and  that  its  stormy  blasts  and  sweeping  rains  arc 


106  THE  GARDEN  OP  FLOWERS.   CHAP.  11.  10-13. 

over  and  gone.  By  general  consent  from  the  earliest  times, 
the  winter  is  referred  to  the  law  of  the  covenant  of  works. 
Holy  and  just  and  good  the  law  is  in  itself,  l^ut  framed  with 
no  design  and  possessing  no  efficacy  to  call  dead  souls  into  new 
life ;  having  no  reviving  warmth  to  clothe  the  leafless  vine- 
vard  with  the  beauty  of  resurrection;  but  binding  all  the 
barrenness  and  death  of  the  apostate  heart  with  the  icy  bands 
of  perpetual  winter.  How  cheering  to  souls  sealed  in  hope- 
less death  the  wondrous  announcement,  'Lo  the  winter  is  past'; 
how  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  the  feet  of  the  first  great 
herald  that  proclaimed  the  fact  to  a  benumbed  and  sleeping 
world !  '  The  law  and  the  prophets  were  until  John,  from  that 
time  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  preached.' 

The  other  element  of  winter,  likewise,  the  desolating  rain, 
is  over  and  gone.  Clouds  and  darkness  were  gathered  about 
an  offended  God;  thunder,  and  lightning,  and  tempest,  burst 
all  round  in  terrible  explosion  from  the  secret  fires  of  a  trampled 
law.  On  the  stony  tablet  was  engraven,  '  Thou  shalt  not  touch 
lest  thou  die';  but  the  surface  of  the  marble  pavement  was 
smooth,  no  frame  of  barbed  iron  encompassed  it,  nought  be- 
tokened death  to  the  intruding  transgressor  but  tl^e  words  of 
the  living  God — '  The  soul  that  siuneth  it  shall  die.'  In  a  fatal 
moment  man  presumptuously  touched  the  forbidden  ground, 
transgressed  the  guarding  word  of  the  Living  One;  and  on 
the  instant  the  sleeping  fires  of  Divine  jealousj'-  burst  forth, 
and  the  lightning,  the  tempest,  and  the  rain  drove  man  to  hide 
himself  beneath  the  trees  from  the  face  of  an  angry  God.  Not 
outwardly  visible,  indeed,  to  the  carnal  eye  on  earth  is  the 
kindled  wrath  of  Jehovah,  but  brought  forth  from  time  to  time 
in  the  fiery  sword  of  Eden,  in  the  waters  of  the  deluge,  in  the 
flames  of  Sodom,  and  most  of  all  in  the  clouds,  the  thunder, 
the  lightning,  and  the  tempest  that  encircled  Mount  Sinai  at 
the  proclamation  of  the  holy  but  trespassed  law.  But  all  the 
indignation  was  to  rest  on  the  head  of  Him  wdio  was  made  of 
a  woman,  made  under  the  law  in  order  that,  without  knowing 
sin  himself,  he  '  might  become  sin  for  us,'  and  '  be  made  a  curse' 
in  the  room  of  the  condemned.  The  long  gathered  water.s  of 
the  winter's  flood  were  together  to  burst  upon  him  till  he  crietl 


CHAP.  II.  10-13.   THE  GARDEN  OF  FLOWERS.  197 

— 'I  sink  in  deep  waters,  thou  hast  afflicted  me  with  all  thy 
waves.'  And  now  because  he  has  already  come,  though  his 
work  is  yet  unfinished,  his  herald  proclaims  the  joyful  sound 
of  the  ^raln  over  and  gone.' 

But  Svho  to  this  day  believeth  the  report,  and  to  whom  is 
the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed?'  How  few  believe  that  the 
wintry  death  is  past;  how  few  apprehend  that  in  Christ  Jesus 
God  breathes  more  than  summer's  warmth  on  dead  souls,  rais- 
ing them  into  life;  how  many  still  vainly  endeavor  for  them- 
selves to  thaw  the  frozen  ice  of  their  hearts,  and  melt  it  into 
the  love  of  God,  while  abiding  within  the  region  of  nature's 
winter,  and  refusing  to  come  forth  into  the  summer  of  grace, 
and  of  free  Divine  love!  For  a  moment  the  cold  heart  seems 
to  melt  by  the  effort,  but  is  quickly  frozen  harder  than  before, 
as  in  the  midst  of  an  eternal  winter.  Ah!  poor  soul,  enclosed 
within  the  arctic  circle  of  cold  and  darkness,  wilt  thou  not  hear 
and  live?  shut  up  in  thine  icy  heart  of  sin  and  alienation,  wilt 
thou  not  look  out  and  come  forth  from  thyself  and  thy  be- 
numbed and  torpid  sleep?  Thy  God  hath  spread  for  thee  a 
green  Paradise  beside  the  very  snows  that  cover  over  thy  cabin 
— come  out  and  see.  All  was  winter  with  thee,  and  all  was 
winter  likewise  for  thee,  when  thou  didst  gather  thyself  within 
thyself  and  lay  thee  down  to  sleep  in  death;  with  thee  all  is 
winter  still,  but  for  thee  all  is  changed  into  summer  if  thou 
wilt  but  advance  into  its  beams.  Thy  God  announces  the 
winter  past,  and  calls  'Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from 
the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light ;'  for  during  thy 
deathlike  sleep  '■  the  Sun  of  righteousness  has  arisen  with  heal- 
ing and  reviving  warmth  beneath  his  wings.' 

The  voice  of  the  Beloved  awakes  thee,  O  sleeping  soul,  as- 
sures thee  that  the  rain  is  over  and  gone,  and  invites  thee  forth. 
Awoke  by  the  voice  of  strangers  thou  hast  sometimes  arisen 
to  open,  but  the  unrelenting  blast  has  beat  upon  thy  face,  and 
thou  hast  shrunk  backward  and  inward  again,  closing  thy 
doors.  But  the  voice  of  the  Beloved,  the  word  of  Jesus  the 
faithful  witness,  calleth  thee.  The  Beloved,  thou  repliest,  but 
not  my  beloved;  yes,  thine  if  thou  wilt  listen  to  him — 'awake 
and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light.'    In 


198  THE  GAEDEN  OF  FLOWERS.   CHAP.  II.  10-13. 

the  hour  in  which  he  summons  and  awakes  thee,  he  pronounces 
thee  both  beloved  and  lovely,  'calling  her  beloved  that  was 
not  beloved ;'  and  he  invites  thee  to  come  away  unto  him,  and 
along  with  him  into  his  vineyard,  his  garden,  his  prepared 
Paradise,  saying — 'Kise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one';  or  in  the 
liappy  words  of  an  old  translation, — 

My  Fellow-friende,  my  Beautifull 
Arise  and  come  thy  way  ; 

'for  lo  the  winter  is  past,  the  rain  is  over  and  gone — arise  my 
love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away !'    But — 

2.  Not  only  the  assurance  is  given  of  winter  past,  but  the 
fruit  presented  of  returning  spring.  It  is  not  however  the 
fruit  of  autumn,  but  the  first  produce  of  the  summer's  sun- 
beams, for  nothing  in  all  the  garden  is  ripe.  The  flowers  are 
in  bloom,  the  fig-tree  is  swelling  and  sweetening  the  green  figs 
that  had  hung  upon  its  branches  through  the  winter,  and  the 
tender  grape  is  forming  out  of  the  fragrant  blossom.  The 
fliowers  are  emblems  and  assurances  of  joy,  created  only  for 
beauty  and  delight;  and  the  tender  figs  and  grapes  give  the 
sure  promise  of  abundant  fruit.  The  flowers  are  tokens  of 
anger  past,  of  grace  and  favour  come,  and  the  summoned  bride 
is  welcomed  to  weave  from  them  garlands  of  beauty  wherewith 
she  may  adorn  herself  to  meet  the  King  (Tres  Patres).  The 
green  fruits  are  pledges  of  ample  provision  against  all  want  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  It  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  pro- 
claimed by  the  Baptist,  commenced  and  established  yet  not 
matured,  but  with  its  doors  thrown  widely  open,  and  all  men 
invited  into  it.  To  Israel  of  old  it  was  the  land  of  promise, 
that  noble  type  of  the  kingdom ;  but  it  was  the  promised  land 
not  yet  possessed,  but  with  its  fruits,  its  figs,  its  grapes  of 
Eshcol  presented — ripe  indeed,  but  a  mere  evidence,  and  earnest, 
and  foretaste  of  the  land  of  covenant.  Sinai's  thunder,  and 
tempest,  and  rain  were  over  and  gone ;  the  vineyard  of  the 
liord  of  Hosts  was  set  before  the  people ;  and  though  they 
knew  not  the  day  of  their  visitation,  the  gracious  invitation  of 
the  Lord  came  to  them,  'Arise,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come 
away.'     So  again  the  invitation  came  in  the  days  of  John,  but 


CHAP.  II.  10-13.       THE  GARDEN  OF  FLOWERS.  199 

unto  a  people  ^  made  williag  in  a  day  of  power',  who  '  pressed 
and  entered  in.' 

Xow,  if  the  garden  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  what  is  its 
flower  but  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?  the  one  fair  flower  that  ever 
sprang  from  earth — the  'Rose  of  Sharon,  the  Lily  of  the  Val- 
leys,' and  the  Garden's  perfect  flower;  one  indeed,  yet  spring- 
ing manifold  through  all  the  garden,  and  beautifying  all  its 
borders  with  whatever  things  are  pure,  or  lovely,  or  of  good 
report,  or  of  any  virtue,  or  of  any  praise.  The  fig-tree,  what 
is  it  but  the  'Green  Tree,'  fair  and  of  goodly  fruit,  nobler  far 
than  that  beneath  whose  shade  sat  the  Israelite  without  guile 
when  the  eye  of  Jesus  was  upon  him  ;  or  rather  the  very  Fig- 
tree  unseen,  under  whose  ample  shadow  Xathanael  worshipped. 
And  the  vine  with  the  tender  grape,  is  it  not  the  stem  out  of 
the  root  of  Jesse,  the  tender  plant  growing  up  before  the  Lord 
of  Hosts,  and  bearing  the  still  swelling  yet  ample  cluster  that 
hath  the  new  wine  in  it  and  the  blessing?  the  True  Vine  of 
which  the  Father  is  the  husbandman,  whose  ripe  grapes  are 
soon  to  be  bruised  in  the  wine-press  of  Jehovah's  wrath  for  the 
life  of  a  perishing  world.  Into  this  garden  filled  with  flowers 
and  figs  and  grapes,  not  of  our  planting  nor  of  our  watering 
nor  culture,  we  are  invited  freely  to  enter,  and  to  rejoice  in 
the  Lord  and  in  his  great  goodness. 

The  immortal  vine  of  heavenly  root, 
Blossoms,  and  buds,  and  gives  her  fruit ; 
Lo,  we  are  come  to  taste  the  wine, 
Our  souls  rejoice,  and  bless  the  vine. —  Watf^. 

But  also  in  this  heavenly  vineyard  are  innumerable  oifshoots 
from  the  Plant  of  Renown,  believers  planted  together  with 
him,  bearing  flowers  and  figs  and  grapes,  precious  before  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  and  not  uncomely  or  unattractive  to  the  eyes  of 
men.  In  a  season  of  the  Lord's  returning  presence,  such  pro- 
duce springs  forth  abundantly.  Roots  really  dead  are  made 
alive  in  Christ,  and  send  forth  buds  and  blossoms;  branches 
of  the  true  vine,  not  dead  but  withered,  flourish  again  and 
fructify ;  and  happy  is  the  man  who  discerns  such  a  time,  and 
obeys  the  divine  call,  and  comes  fortli  into  the  fragrant  vineyard. 


200  THE  SONG   OF  BIRDS.  CHAP.  n.  12. 

THE  SONG  OF  BIRDS. 

The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come,  the  season  when  the 
feathered  songsters  of  the  wood  and  of  the  sky  express  the  ful- 
ness of  their  joy  in  sweetest  melody.  The  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  spring  and  summer  of  a  returning  and  smiling 
God,  and  its  invitation  is — 'O  sing  a  new  song  to  the  Lord, 
for  he  hath  done  wondrous  things!'  There  is  in  the  universe 
no  subject  of  song  like  redeeming  love;  within  the  bounds  of 
creation  no  music  equal  to  the  song  of  the  redeemed — 'like  the 
noise  of  many  waters'  breaking  forth  in  praise,  'Worthy  is  the 
Lamb!'  It  is  a  song  mingled  with  holy  awe,  yet  not  the  less 
joyful  on  that  account;  its  deepest  tones  only  swelling  the 
volume  of  mirthful  melody.  It  is  a  hymn  in  praise  of  the  slain 
Lamb,  yet  mingled  now  with  no  sadness  for  that  death,  but  all 
the  more  converted  into  gladness.  In  going  forth  unto  the 
last  agony,  Jesus  'sung  a  hymn'  with  his  disciples;  and  vvlien 
he  was  risen  from  the  dead  and  had  poured  out  his  spirit, 
'they  ate  their  food  with  gladness  praising  God.'  The  be- 
liever, 'in  heaviness  through  manifold  temptations,  hangs  his 
harp  upon  the  willows,  and  asks  how  can  I  sing  the  Lord's 
song  in  a  foreign  land  ?'  and  when,  in  no  sadness  for  himself, 
he  'has  syreat  heaviness  for  his  kinsmen  accordin<>;  to  the  flesh,' 
and  cannot  sing  when  they  are  dying.  Yet,  heir  of  heaven! 
there  is  notliing  in  which  thou  misjudgest  more.  Did  not 
Paul  and  Silas  sing  praises  in  chains  at  midnight,  till  all  the 
prisoners  heard  them  ;  and  the  jailer  himself  joined  in  the  song 
before  the  day  had  dawned,  believing  in  God  with  all  his 
house?  There  is  nothing  in  the  Gospel  more  attractive  to 
men,  than  the  joy  it  imparts  to  believers  in  their  greatest  trials; 
and  when  for  the  sake  of  jDcrishing  souls  thou  art  refusing  to 
'sing  tu  thy  Lord,'  thou  art  withholding  not  only  from  Him 
the  praise  that  is  due,  but  from  them  one  of  the  likeliest  means 
for  their  conversion.  'Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salva- 
tion, then  will  I  teach  transgressors  thy  ways,  and  sinners  shall 
be  converted  unto  thee.'  Let  us,  therefore,  not  return  to  out 
old  rebel  ranks  amongst  the  evil  and  unthankful;  but  let  the 
very  singing  of  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  the  bursting  buds  of 


CHAP.  II.  12  THE   SONG    OF   BIRDS.  201 

the  flowers  of  the  earth,  remind  us  of  the  debt  of  joyful  grati- 
tude that  we  owe  for  the  great  salvation. 

All  creatures  of  the  eternal  God  but  man, 

In  several  sorts  do  glorifie  his  name; 

Each  tree  doth  seem  ten  thousand  tongues  to  have, 

With  them  to  laude  the  Lord  omnipotent ; 

Each  leaf  that  with  wind's  gentle  breath  doth  wave, 

Seems  as  a  tongue  to  speak  to  that  intent, 

In  language  admirably  excellent. 

The  sundry  sorts  of  fragrant  flowers  do  seem, 

Sundry  discourses  God  to  glorifie, 

And  sweetest  volumes  may  we  them  esteem; 

For  all  these  creatures  in  their  several  sort 

Prayse  God,  and  man  imto  the  same  exhort.        P.  Pett. 

Neither  should  the  vocal  melody  of  praise  be  neglected,  for 
we  are  exhorted  to  'admonish  one  another  in  psalms  and 
hymns  and  spiritual  songs/  as  well  as  to  '  make  melody  in  our 
hearts  to  the  Lord.'  The  song  of  your  heart,  believer,  may 
edify  yourself,  but  the  song  of  your  lips  will  edify  your 
brother;  'you  are  bought  with  a  price,  therefore  glorify  God 
in  your  body  and  your  spirit  which  are  God's.'  Your  tongue 
is  'purchased'  and  is  not  your  own;  when  your  lips  were  your 
own,  your  unsanctified  tongue  greatly  dishonored  the  Lord; 
and  now  let  your  tongue,  redeemed,  'sing  forth  the  honor  of 
His  name.'  Around  the  family  altar  and  in  the  sanctuary, 
your  song  is  the  confession  of  Christ  before  men,  and  in  refusing 
such  praise  through  shame  and  fear  of  men,  take  heed  lesL 
your  Lord  write  it  against  you  as  a  refusal  to  bear  his  reproach 
and  proclaim  his  glory.  In  all  seasons  of  abounding  grace 
and  spiritual  liberty,  the  heart  seems  moved  to  praise  with  the 
lips;  when  the  winter  of  the  Church  is  past,  it  is  ever  succeeded 
by  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds;  and  the  voice  of  holy 
sonoj  is  one  of  the  sweetest  tokens  of  the  rain  beino;  over  and 
gone. 

O  sing  unto  this  glittering  glorious  king, 
O  praise  his  name  let  every  living  thing ; 
Let  heart  and  voice,  like  belles  of  silver,  ring 
The  comfort  that  this  day  did  bring. 

Kingwellmcrsh. 


202  THE   VOICE   OF   THE   TURTLE.        CHAP.  II.  12. 

We  must  uot,  however,  omit  to  note,  that  what  we  translate 
'  the  time  of  singing '  is  in  our  older  bibles  rendered  '  the  time 
of  pruning.'  The  season  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  the  season 
also  of  the  growth  and  the  pruning  of  the  vine's  luxuriant 
shoots ;  the  branch  that  is  pruned  for  fruit,  and  the  song  that 
is  pruned  for  beauty,  are  expressed  in  the  same  terms  by  the 
Hebrews;  and  it  is  therefore  difficult  to  determine  whether 
'the  time  of  the  singing'  of  birds,  or  'the  time  of  pruning' 
the  vines  is  intended.  But  as  they  are  uot  distant  in  nature, 
so  neither  are  they  distant  in  grace;  for  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  the  season  of  spring,  the  season  of  growth,  the  season 
of  song,  and  the  season  of  the  sharp  knife  of  the  vine-dresser 
are  the  same.  Wonder  not  if  thou  wast  left  alone  while  thy 
branches  were  dead,  but  hast  felt  the  edge  of  the  knife  so  soon 
as  they  have  lived  again.  Has  not  thy  Lord  said,  that  'the 
branch  in  him  that  beareth  not  fruit  his  Father  taketli  away, 
and  the  branch  that  beareth  fruit  he  purgeth  it  that  it  may 
bring  forth  more  fruit'?  Pruneth  ever  the  husbandman  the 
lifeless  tree?  If  toward  it  he  stretch  forth  the  iron  at  all,  it 
is  not  the  pruning-knife,  but  the  axe,  that  fills  his  hand.  But 
v/hen  the  shoots  spring  forth  luxuriantly,  he  repents  of  the 
threatened  yet  deserved  stroke  of  excision,  lays  down  the  lifted 
weapon  of  destruction,  and  loses  no  time  in  applying  the 
pruning-kulfe,  the  token  now  of  a  recognised  place  in  the 
vineyard. 

'When  fading  trees  of  righteousness, 

Renew  their  fruitful  life; 
Thou  dost  the  branches  lop  and  dress; 
I  bless  the  pruning  knife.' 

THE   VOICE   OF   THE   TURTLE. 

And  the  voice  of  the  Turtle  is  heard  in  our  land — the  voice 
of  Eiias,  according  to  the  Jews ;  the  voice  of  John  the  Baptist, 
according  to  some  early  Christian  interpreters.  The  kingdom 
of  heaven  preached  by  John  was  like  the  melodious  singing  of 
birds;  it  was  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  like  summer  songs  after 
wintry  tempests.     His  testimony  also  remarkably  resembled 


CHAP.  II.  12.        THE   VOICE   OF   THE   TURTLE.  203 

the  voice  of  the  turtle,  and  his  appearance  was  like  its  coming. 
(1.)  As  the  turtle  is  one  of  the  doves,  and  the  dove,  the  emblem 
of  peace,  plucked  the  olive  leaf  when  the  rain  was  over  and 
gone,  and  presented  it  to  the  rescued  human  family  in  token 
of  divine  reconciliation :  so  John,  the  first  on  earth  honored 
to  tell  of  the  approaching  summer  of  grace  and  truth,  w^as  the 
true  turtle-dove  bearing  in  its  mouth  the  olive  branch  of  mercy 
to  men.  (2.)  The  turtle  among  the  doves  is  selected  in  Scrip- 
ture for  its  returning  to  meet  the  returning  sun,  neither  ignor- 
ant nor  forgetful  of  the  season,  and  as  a  standing  reproof  to 
man  for  not  discerning  the  gracious  return  and  coming  of  the 
Lord.  'Shall  he  turn  away  and  not  return?  yea  the  stork  in 
the  heaven  knoweth  her  appointed  times,  and  the  turtle  and 
the  crane  and  the  swallow  observe  the  time  of  their  coming, 
but  my  people  know  not  the  judgment  of  the  Lord.'  (Jer.  viii). 
He,  than  whom  none  greater  had  been  born  of  women,  was 
selected  by  God  as  the  Turtle,  that  first  of  all  should  recognise 
and  welcome  the  return  of  God  to  man  in  the  person  of  Jesus 
Christ;  should  know  it  for  himself  as  the  turtle  knowing  the 
time  of  its  coming,  and  should  publish  it  to  others  as  the  turtle 
making  its  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  land — the  voice  in  the 
wilderness  testifying  that  in  the  desert  is  now  found  the  vine- 
yard of  the  Lord,  on  earth  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  (3.)  The 
turtle,  with  its  tender  and  mournful  note,  is  a  scriptural  em- 
blem for  repentance.  '  They  refused  to  return,  no  man  repented, 
yea  the  turtle  knoweth  the  time  of  its  coming'  (Jer.  viii). 
John  came  preaching  the  baptism  of  repentance  for  remission 
of  sins;  his  testimony  was — 'Repent';  it  was  the  plaintive 
voice  of  the  turtle  heard  in  the  land  along  with  the  song  of 
birds,  and  both  on  account  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  come; 
grief  and  joy  together — affliction  with  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost — 
heaven  singing  over  penitents  on  earth,  and  earthly  penitents 
praising  God  for  the  heavenly  grace. 

But  as  '  the  ox  knowing  his  owner,  and  the  ass  his  master's 
crib,'  reprove  Israel  ignorant  and  inconsiderate ;  so  does  the 
time-observing  turtle  convict  the  forgetful  and  self-blinded 
sinner.  Look  at  the  turtle  or  the  crane,  or  at  the  swallow 
more  familiar  to  thy  sight.     Did  it  sleep  in  summer,  did  it 


204  THE   VOICE   OF   THE   TURTLE.        CHAP.  II.  12. 

not  discern  the  smiling  flowers  and  budding  grapes,  but  suffer 
spring  and  summer  to  pass  away  in  slumber  or  in  joyous  idle- 
ness, and  then  turn  toward  our  shores  when  the  season  was 
past — what  a  miserable  death  would  await  the  ill-timed  wan- 
derer, either  cast  into  the  deep  by  the  angry  tera2)ests,  or 
landing  on  our  coasts  only  to  be  frozen  to  death.  So  fruitless 
and  so  fatal,  O  sinner!  is  thy  late  and  unseasonable  seeking 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  They  who  seek  early  find,  but 
why  does  the  Saviour  of  sinners  weep  over  lost  souls,  but  be- 
cause they  '  know  not  the  day  of  their  visitation,'  their  season 
of  grace,  their  time  of  opportunity?  Is  he  not  saying  ev^en 
now — ^O  Jerusalem!  Jerusalem!  how  oft  would  I  have  gathered 
thy  children  together  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  brood  be- 
neath her  wings,  and  ye  would  not!'  Are  not  his  compassions 
stirred  over  thee,  and  his  repentings  kindled  together,  and  is 
not  the  utterance  of  his  heart,  'Oh  that  thou  hadst  known  even 
thou  at  least  in  this  thy  day  the  things  that  belong  to  thy 
peace,  ere  they  be  hid  from  thy  eyes'?  Let  thy  voice  be  heard 
even  in  this  hour,  as  the  voice  of  a  weeping  penitent  returning 
to  thy  God;  as  the  voice  of  a  believing  suppliant  calling  on 
the  name  of  Jesus;  as  the  voice  of  the  turtle  knowing  its  season 
and  improving  it:  for  now  is  thine  accepted  time,  now  thy 
day  of  salvation,  and  in  returning  to  thy  God  thou  shalt  meet 
him  already  returning  unto  thee,  falling  upon  thy  neck  and 
kissing  thee  as  a  son,  lost  but  now  found,  dead  and  alive  again. 

The  legal  wintry  state  is  gone, 
Tiie  mists  are  fled,  the  spring  comes  on; 
The  sacred  turtle-dove  we  hear 
Proclaim  the  new,  the  joyful  year. 
And  when  we  hear  Christ  Jesus  say, 
Else  up  my  Love,  and  come  away. 
Our  hearts  would  fain  outfly  the  wind, 
And  leave  all  earthly  joys  behind. 

WcUta. 


CHAP.  II.  14.  15.  TUE  DOVE  IN  THE  CLEFTS  OF  THE  EOCK.  205 


XI. 

THE  DOVE  IN  THE  CLEFTS  OF  THE  EOCK— THE  FOXES 
THAT  SPOIL  THE  VINES. 

O  my  dove,  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  ^feees  of  the 
stairs,  let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice;  for  sweet  is  thy 
voice,  and  thy  countenance  is  comely.  Take  us  the  foxes,  the  little  foxes, 
that  spoil  the  vines;  for  our  vines  have  tender  grapes. — Chap.  ii.  14,  15. 

THE  DOVE  IK  THE  CLEFTS  OF  THE  KOCK. 

0  my  dove  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  places 
of  the  stairs,  let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy  voice;  for 
sweet  is  thy  voice  and  thy  countenance  is  comely. — By  this  em- 
blem of  a  dove  the  Church  is  so  often  described  both  in  this 
Song  and  throughout  the  Scriptures,  that  we  shall  note  the 
leading  ideas  which  the  term  is  employed  to  convey.  Here  it 
is  a  term  of  endearment  used  ])y  Christ  of  his  Church,  and  this 
may  be  regarded  as  its  principal  meaning  throughout  the  Song 
— 'my  Sister,  my  Love,  my  Dove.'  In  like  manner  exactly, 
the  Church  applies  it  to  herself  in  the  Psalms,  when  she  prays, 
'O  deliver  not  the  soul  of  thy  turtle-dove  unto  the  multitude 
of  the  wicked.'  Both  with  Asaph  and  with  Solomon,  the  dove 
is  an  image  and  term  of  affection  of  precisely  the  same  sig- 
nificance as  the  lamb  in  Nathan's  parable  of  the  poor  man — 
the  one  little  ewe-lamb  that  grew  up  with  his  children,  that 
ate  of  his  own  morsel  and  drank  of  his  own  cup,  and  was  unto 
him  as  a  daughter.  Such  also,  and  so  cherished  an  object  to 
Jesus,  is  his  Church, — 'his  sister,  his  dove,  his  only  one.'  Nor 
need  we  exclude  the  more  common  though  less  relevant  inter- 
pretation, which  connects  the  image  with  the  closeness  and 
constancy  of  attachment  subsisting  between  doves  themselves. 

The  following  account  of  the  death  of  his  infant  son  in  James 
Melville's  diary  may  serve  to  illustrate  both.  'The  bairn  was 
lallon  beautiful,  loving,  and  merry,  but  by  the  space  of  a  quar- 


206  THE   DOVE  CHAP.  II.  14. 

ter  of  a  year  he  consumed  and  dwined  away,  keeping  always 
the  pleasantest  eye  that  could  be  in  any  head.  He  was  my 
first  propinc  and  handsel  to  heaven.  I  cannot  forget  a  strange 
thing  at  his  death :  I  had  a  pair  of  fine  milk-white  doves, 
whicli  I  fed  in  the  house;  the  one  whereof,  that  day  of  his 
death,  could  not  be  holden  off  his  cradle,  but  crept  in  and  sat 
under  it,  and  died  with  him;  the  other,  at  ray  home-coming 
on  the  morrow,  came,  lighted  at  my  feet,  and  crying  piteously, 
ran  a  littly  away  from  me.  I  took  it  up  and  put  food  in  its 
mouth;  but  it  shook  it  from  its  throat,  and  parting  from  me 
with  a  pitiful  piping,  within  two  or  three  hours  died  also: — 

O  first  like  pleasant  flower  on  earth,  thou  grew, 

Then,  dwined  to  death,  with  doves  to  heaven  thou  flew.' 

This  passage  affectingly  illustrates,  what  requires  no  proof, 
that,  like  the  ewe-lamb  brought  up  with  the  children,  the  dove 
is  a  natural  emblem  for  a  cherished  object  of  affection ;  and 
shows  likewise  the  faithful  attachment  of  doves  between  them- 
selves. But  besides  being  emblematic  of  affection,  the  image 
is  associated  with  mtiny  other  ideas  in  Scripture.  (1.)  The 
dove  is  the  emblem  employed  for  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  'de- 
scended on  Christ  like  a  dove  and  abode  upon  him ';  and  every 
soul  united  to  Christ  has  this  dove-like  Spirit  dwelling  in  him, 
for  'if  any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ  he  is  none  of  his.' 
(2.)  Broken  hearts  repenting  towards  God  are  compared  to 
doves;  'for  they  shall  be  like  doves  of  the  valleys,  every  one 
mourning  for  his  iniquity.'  (3.)  Saints  are  likened  to  doves 
for  simplicity  and  gentleness  in  Christ's  command,  '  be  ye  wise 
as  serpents  and  harmless  as  doves.'  (4.)  Like  doves  also  are 
they  in  beauty,  according  to  the  promise,  '  though  ye  have  lien 
among  the  pots,  yet  shall  ye  be  as  the  wings  of  doves  covered 
with  silver  and  with  gold.'  (5.)  Dove-like  again  they  are,  in 
congregating  rapidly  and  in  great  multitudes,  into  the  house 
and  kingdom  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  'flying  as  a  cloud  and 
as  the  doves  flocking  to  their  windows.'  (6.)  They  resemble 
doves  in  carrying  messages  of  peace  and  good-will  from  God 
to  perishing  men,  as  the  dove  bare  to  Noah  the  olive  branch,* 
in  token  of  the  waters  of  wrath  upon  a  guilty  world  being  now 


CHAP.  II.  14.        IX   THE   CLEFTS   OF   THE    EOCK.  207 

assuaged.  (7.)  And,  finally,  they  are  like  doves  in  timidity, 
Hi-embling  like  a  dove  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt';  fearing  and 
fleeing  from  sin,  the  world,  and  self;  fearing  and  fleeing  to  Him 
that  'is  able  to  cast  both  soul  and  body  into  hell,'  and  ever 
'hiding  themselves  within  tlie  clefts  of  the  Rock'  of  Ages, 
knowing  that  'this  Rock  is  Christ.' 

'O  my  dove  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret 
places  of  the  stairs,  let  me  see  thy  countenance,  let  me  hear  thy 
voice;  for  sweet  is  thy  voice  and  thy  countenance  is  comely.' 
TJiere  are  three  ideas,  different  yet  not  inconsistent,  which  may 
be  conveyed  by  these  rocks,  and  the  stairs,  which  are  the 
cavernous  precipices  of  the  rocks  resembling  stairs  (trap-rocks); 
for  they  may  be  understood  of  the.  natural,  of  the  spiritual,  or 
of  the  outward,  refuge  of  the  dove  of  Christ. 

1.  The  beauty  of  the  dove  is  determined  by  the  text,  and 
also  the  call  on  the  part  of  Christ  to  come  forth  to  himself,  but 
not  the  character  of  her  hiding  place.  This  secret  refuge  is 
therefore  understood  by  some  as  the  rock  of  nature,  in  which 
the  trembling  sinner  has  hid  himself,  and  from  which  he  is 
invited  to  come  forth  to  Jesus;  or  as  the  hiding-place  of  sad- 
ness and  despondency  to  which  the  believer  has  returned  in  a 
wintry  season  of  the  soul.  In  the  very  first  effectual  call  of 
Christ,  he  addresses  the  soul — 'O  my  dove!'  and  in  the  first 
forthcoming  of  the  soul  to  him  the  countenance  is  'comelv,'  al- 
ready reflecting  the  image  of  Jesus.  In  the  first  emerging  ot 
the  dove  from  among  the  soiling  pots  of  Egypt,  her  wino-s  are 
covered  M'ith  silver  and  her  feathers  with  gold;  and  as,  in  His 
beauty,  the  countenance  is  comely,  so  the  'voice  is  sweet'  in  the 
first  utterances  of  repentance,  of  faitli^  of  love.  'They  Avere 
all  of  them  snared  in  holes,  and  hid  in  prison-houses,  and  none 
said  Restore.'  But  John  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness  of  Ju- 
dea,  when  the  winter  of  the  law  was  past,  called  the  people 
out  to  meet  a  coming  Christ;  and  they  came  forth  confessino- 
their  sins,  and  asking,  '  What  shall  we  do?'  This  voice  of 
repentance  Christ  heard,  as  of  the  turtle  that  knows  the  time 
of  its  coming,  and  'it  was  sweet;'  their  countenance  he  saw 
washed  in  purer  waters  than  those  of  the  Jordan,  and  it  was 
'comely.'     So  now  Jesus  'says  to  the  prisoners,  come  forth,  to 


208  THE   DOVE  CHAP.  II.  14. 

them  that  sit  in  darkness,  show  yourselves ;'  and  in  coming 
forth  to  him,  benighted  sinner!  and  in  showing  yourself,  how 
vile  soever  or  offensive  before,  your  voice,  likewise,  is  sweet  to 
his  oar,  and  your  countenance  comely  in  his  sight. 

2.  This  hiding-place  is  understood  by  others  to  represent 
the  dove's  true  refuge,  Christ  himself;  from  which  in  that  case 
she  is  invited  to  come  forth,  not  as  forsaking  it,  but  flying 
abroad  on  the  wings  of  faith  and  holy  liberty,  to  return  again 
and  to  rest  in  the  rock, — as  the  sheep  of  the  good  Shepherd, 
entering  by  him,  go  in  and  out  and  find  pasture.  'O  that  I 
had  wings  like  a  dove,  I  would  fly  away  and  be  at  rest ;  I 
would  hasten  my  escape  from  the  windy  storm  and  tempest.' 
Such  a  use  has  this  dove  of  Christ  made  of  her  wings;  the 
winter  blast  was  howling,  the  torrent  of  rain  descending,  and 
she  fled  to  the  rock  like  Noah's  dove  to  the  ark.  But  as  when 
the  rain  was  over  and  gone,  that  dove  was  the  first  to  leave 
the  'secret  places  of  the  stairs,'  in  that  floating  palace,  which 
had  been  a  tower  of  safety  when  earth's  highest  rocks  were 
but  the  bed  of  the  ocean;  so  the  dove  of  Christ  is  now  by  him- 
self invited  to  come  forth  from  the  rocky  refuge,  to  confess 
the  name  of  Jesus,  to  pray  to  him,  to  praise  him,  to  bear  for 
him  messages  of  peace  throughout  the  earth.  Or,  we  may  re- 
tain the  image  of  the  rock,  not  merely  as  a  constant  refuge  of 
resort  and  return,  but  of  continual  abiding.  Then  it  is  witliin 
the  rocky  clefts,  yet  in  holy  liberty  within,  with  opened  lips 
confessing,  praying,  praising,  testifying;  within  the  clefts,  yet 
in  holy  boldness,  and,  instead  of  merely  casting  down  the  eyes 
in  shame,  venturing  in  faith  to  look  openly  on  Jesus,  and  to 
stand  as  accejited  befor*  him. 

'O  dove  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,'  what  a  refuge  thou  hast 
found! — a  rock,  and  therefore  sure;  a  cleft  rock,  and  there- 
fore open  for  thee.  Clefts  andopjenings  enough  didst  thou  see 
and  try,  but  within  no  rock;  refuges  of  lies  quickly  failing. 
One  rock  thou  sawest,  vast,  beautiful,  eternal,  awful,  but  on 
its  glittering  surface  there  was  no  scam  nor  rent  wherein  to  hide 
thyself.  The  Lawgiver  with  the  iron  rod  of  Sinai  smote  that 
Kock  of  Ages  for  thee,  and  rent  it  with  harboring  clefts,  when 
it  pleased  the  Father  to  bruise  his  Beloved  Son.     How  quickly 


CHAP.  II.  14.      IX   THE   CLEFTS   OP   THE   ROCK.  209 

then  didst  thou  flee  for  refuge  to  the  hope  set  before  thee,  and 
how  deeply  didst  thou  hide  thyself  within  the  wounded  Sa- 
viour, 'thy  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God'!  Once  within  that 
rock,  thou  hast  loved  to  hear  the  tempest  howl,  and  the  billows 
roar  without,  beneath,  around,  till  the  earth  shook  with  the 
swelling  thereof,  that  thou  mightest  prove  thy  safety  the  more, 
and  with  a  louder  hymn  might  sing  to  Jesus, — 'God  is  our 
refuge,  therefore  will  we  not  fear  though  the  earth  be  removed, 
and  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea.'  Thither 
thou  hast  fled  from  every  foe,  thither  from  every  fear,  thither 
from  hell,  thither  from  earth,  there  is  thy  dwelling,  thy  home 
there;  not  thy  home  for  a  season,  not  thy  tabernacle  of  exile 
during  life,  but  thine  eternal  refuge,  Avhich  neither  life  nor 
death  can  for  a  moment  shake.  When  the  Jordan  shall  swell 
around  thee,  and  the  waters  rise  so  high  as  to  bear  away  on 
their  bosom  the  frail  bark  of  this  earthly  frame  in  which  thou 
wast  when  betaking  thyself  to  the  E-ock;  even  then  wilt  thou 
calmly  look  upon  the  shattered  wreck  floating  from  thee  on 
the  stream,  but  thyself  hid  and  held  securely  within  the  Eternal 
Rock. 

Rock  of  Ages  cleft  for  me, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  thy  riven  side  which  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure, 

Cleanse  me  from  its  guilt  and  power. 

While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  mine  eyelids  close  in  death, 
When  I  soar  to  worlds  unknown, 
See  thee  on  thy  judgment  throne, — 
Rock  of  Ages  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee. — Toplady. 

3.  But  a  special  reference  may  well  be  allowed  to  the  perse- 
cuted Church  of  Christ,  wandering  in  deserts  and  in  moun- 
tains, hiding  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  to  whom,  more  even 
than  to  others,  must  these  words  of  the  Bridegroom  have  been 
sweet, — 'O  my  dove  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock.'  'The 
timid  dove  seeks  to  hide  itself  in  such  recesses  from  the  birds 


210  THE   FOXES  CHAP.  II.  15. 

of  prey;  and  Iiow  oft  has  the  Church  been  glad  to  hide  her- 
self in  woods  and  solitary  places,  yea  in  caverns  and  in  clefts 
of  the  rocks  to  escape  the  storms  of  persecution  ;  and  in  these 
retirements  to  worship  God,  and  enjoy  communion  with  him, 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  talons  of  the  persecutor !  xih,  ye  Wal- 
denses,  ye  Albigenses,  ye  Piedmontese,  how  often  was  this 
your  case!  Yes,  and  ye  ancient  British  Nonconformists,  of 
whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  how  often  have  ye  retired  to 
some  solitary  cottage  in  the  wood,  how  carefully  have  ye  closed 
the  door,  the  chimney,  and  every  avenue  of  sound,  that  the 
listening  informer  might  not  hear!  But  the  Lord  hearkened 
and  heard,  and  a  book  of  remembrance  was  written  before  him' 
(Williams).  More  literally  still,  did  the  mountain  dove  of  the 
true  Church  of  Scotland  hide  herself  in  '  the  clefts  of  the  rock '; 
and  oft  from  '  the  secret  places  of  the  stairs,'  within  the  craggy 
precipice,  seeing  afar  yet  herself  unseen,  has  her  voice  of  prayer 
and  praise  ascended  to  heaven  and  mingled  with  the  songs 
above.  Nor  does  the  dove's  earthly  rock  over-shadow  or  dis- 
place, but  only  illustrate  and  recommend  the  Rock  that  is 
higher.  Most  admirably  has  Solomon's  noble  father  exhibited 
this  truth;  for  no  man  on  earth  was  better  acquainted  with 
the  character  of  both  these  rocks,  and  none  knew  better  how 
to  distinguish  between  them.  'Wings  like  a  dove'  he  had  taken, 
and  had  hid  himself  in  the  Rock  of  Ages ;  swift  also  as  with 
the  feet  of  hinds  had  he  scaled  the  high  places  of  the  precipice, 
and  hid  himself  in  'the  rocks  of  the  v/ild  goats.'  His  foiled 
foes  taunted  him  by  this  very  image  of  the  dove  in  the  clefts 
of  the  rock;  and  proudly  bade  him  'fly  like  a  trembling  bird' 
to  its  craggy  refuge,  as  if  that  earthly  rock  had  been  his  real 
stronghold.  Listen  to  his  magnificent  reply  to  the  cruel  taunt 
— 'Li  the  Lord  put  I  my  trust,  how  say  ye  to  my  soul,  flee  as 
a  bird  to  your  mountain  ?'  for  the  real  rock  in  which  that  moun- 
tain dove  had  hid  itself  was  the  Rock  of  Ages,  whom  alone  in 
his  securest  stronghold  his  song  ever  celebrated — 'The  Lord 
is  my  rock  and  my  fortress,  my  strength,  my  buckler,  my  high 
tower.' 

THE   FOXES   THAT   SPOIL   THE   VINES. 

Take  us  the  foxes,  (he  little  foxes,  that  spoil  the  vines:  for  our 


CHAP.  II.  15.  THAT  SPOIL   THE   VINES.  211 

vines  have  tender  grxipcs. — ]\Iost  emphatically  was  this  injunc- 
tion given  to  John  the  Baptist  in  the  first  blossoming  of  the 
Lord's  vineyard,  in  the  opening  of  the  Gospel  dispensation 
when  the  kingdom  of  heaven  was  proclaimed  at  as  hand.  In 
that  kingdom  foxes  are  both  subtle  sins — for  the  deceitfuluess 
of  sin  is  ever  one  of  its  darkest  brands  in  the  word  of  God, 
and  deceitful  workers — fox-like  men  who  corrupt  others. 
Never  were  the  two  more  resolutely  taken  and  dragged  to  the 
light  of  day,  than  by  the  hands  of  the  herald  who  prepared 
in  the  wilderness  the  way  of  the  Lord.  He  preached  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  the  winter  past,  the  day  of  sunshine  from 
heaven  come,  and  all  men  he  invited  to  press  into  the  vine- 
yard. But  mark  how  vigilantly  he  took  the  vine-spoiling 
foxes,  the  subtle  sins:  'He  that  hath  two  coats,  let  him  give 
to  him  that  hath  none;  exact  no  more  than  is  appointed  you; 
do  violence  to  no  man,  neither  accuse  any  falsely,  and  be  con- 
tent with  your  wages ;  repent,  and  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for 
repentance.'  With  the  same  determined  hand  he  caught  the 
crafty  fox-like  men  that  would  enter  the  blooming  vineyard, 
branding  them  openly  by  the  kindred  figure  of  the  cunning 
serpent.  'O  generation  of  vipers,'  said  he  to  the  Sadducees 
and  Pharisees  coming  for  baptism,  Svho  hath  warned  you  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come?'  Nay  further,  the  crafty  and 
cruel  Herod  whom  the  lowly  One  spares  not  to  designate  as 
'that  fox,'  this  friend  of  the  Bridegroom  at  the  cost  of  his  own 
life  caught  with  iron  grasp  in  his  own  den,  (for  even  around 
it  there  were  vine-blossoms,  Avhen  he  did  many  things  gladly,) 
and  told  him  face  to  face,  'It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  her.' 
The  season  of  spring  and  summer,  both  in  the  Church  and 
in  the  soul,  has  its  own  peculiar  dangers,  and  its  own  special 
labors.  The  winter  of  spiritual  death  contains  within  itself 
all  possible  evil;  yet  certain  forms  of  evil  seem  often  to  be 
frozen  up  along  with  the  good.  When  the  vineyard  by  the 
returning  sun  is  full  of  tender  grapes,  then  the  foxes  which 
Avere  either  few  or  elsewhere  before,  find  shelter  under  the 
abundant  foliage,  and  increase  rapidly  in  number.  There  are 
noxious  heresies  which  spring  up  less  readily  while  the  church 
is  dormant,  for  though  doubtless  the  seeds  of  those  tares  are 


212  THE   FOXES  CHAP.  II.  15. 

sown  while  men  sleep,  yet  when  the  wheat  springeth  up,  the 
tares  appear  along  with  it.  In  a  season  when  men's  minds 
are  moved  about  divine  things,  false  teachers  arise  with  the 
craftiness  of  the  fox,  prophets  in  Israel  like  the  foxes  in  the 
desert,  and  by  subtlety  they  beguile  unstable  souls,  deceiving 
and  being  deceived.  These  as  'men  that  are  heretics'  after 
the  first  and  second  warning,  are  to  be  rejected,  cast  out  of  the 
Church,  lest  like  foxes  they  should  spoil  the  tender  vines. 
So  likewise,  errors  in  doctrine  and  sins  in  life  are  fraught  with 
special  danger  at  such  a  season;  roots  they  are  of  bitterness 
springing  up  to  trouble,  and  defiling  many ;  drinking  in  the 
abundant  rains  then  falling  from  heaven,  only  to  bring  forth 
the  wormwood  of  malice  and  hypocrisy.  Indifference  towards 
such  errors,  or  tenderness  towards  such  sins,  may  soon  lay  a 
pleasant  vineyard  waste.  Because  the  pastors  and  elders  of 
the  Church  will  only  hearken  to  the  singing  of  the  birds,  and 
the  voice  of  the  turtle,  and  admire  the  swelling  and  sweetening 
of  the  fig,  and  will  not  grapple  with  and  destroy  the  foxes, 
the  little  foxes  that  are  spoiling  the  vines, — these,  left  to  grow 
large,  are  taken  both  with  difficulty,  and  after  much  mischief 
already  perpetrated. 

So  in  the  spring  and  summer  of  the  individual  soul,  both 
plausible  fox-like  errors  and  subtle  fox-like  sins  will  make 
sad  havoc  in  the  vineyard,  if  not  timeously  crushed.  Remem- 
ber, living  soul!  that  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  thy  strength  both 
to  root  out  old  sins  that  have  always  beset  thee,  and  to  cut 
down  new  sins  that  spring  up  under  the  shelter  of  the  very 
joy  and  peace  which  have  now  been  bestowed  upon  thee. 
Pride,  vain  glory,  worldliness;  selfishness,  envy,  strife;  self- 
confidence,  uncharitableness ;  impatience,  sloth,  levity;  fickle- 
ness, rashness,  covetousness,  and  other  sins  innumerable;  will 
creep  in  like  foxes  to  waste  the  vines,  and  often  like  little 
.foxes,  in  small  and  seemingly  weak  beginnings.  Now  mark 
what  these  little  foxes  will  work,  if  you  leave  them  alone. 
They  will  burrow  beneath  the  vine  roots,  they  will  gnaw  the 
bark,  they  will  break  the  shoots,  they  will  scatter  the  sheltering 
leaves ;  or  if  they  forbear  for  a  time,  yet  ere  the  vintage  arrive, 


CHAP.  II.  15.  THAT   SPOIL   THE   VINES.  213 

they  will  fatten  themselves  on  the  ripe  fruity  and  leave  the 
wine-press  idle,  and  the  wine-vat  empty  for  want  of  grapes. 

Foxes  are  said  to  make  sad  devastation  in  a  vineyard ;  the 
name,  however,  including  other  animals  of  kindred  species, 
along  with  what  we  more  j)articularly  term  ths  fox.  '  Foxes,' 
Bishop  Patrick  remarks,  'abound  in  Judea,  and  arc  observed 
by  abundance  of  authors  to  love  grapes,  and  make  great  devas- 
tations in  vineyards;  insomuch  that  Aristophanes  compares 
soldiers  to  foxes,  spoiling  whole  countries  as  they  do  vineyards.' 
This  desolation  of  the  vineyard,  leaving  it  leafless  and  fruit- 
less, is  like  the  return  of  a  second  winter,  but  more  unsightly 
by  far  than  the  barrenness  of  the  original  winter  itself  Have 
you  never  seen  such  a  soul?  with  the  vine-stem  peeled  and 
bare,  the  boughs  broken,  the  leaves  strewn  and  withered,  the 
fruit  gone;  and  not  for  want  of  a  noble  vine-plant,  a  rich  soil, 
genial  shoAvers  and  a  smiling  sun ;  not  for  want  of  knowledge 
or  ample  privileges  or  surrounding  grace ;  but  the  vineyard 
devoured  and  laid  waste,  its  goodliness  devastated,  because  of 
errors  and  sins,  or  of  one  error  or  one  sin  suffered  to  creep  in 
subtly  like  the  fox  till  the  garden  of  the  Lord  had  become  a 
desolation.  If  you  think  you  stand,  take  heed  lest  you  fall ; 
arise  quickly  and  'take  the  foxes,  the  little  foxes,  that  spoil 
the  vines.' 

But  the  taking  of  these  foxes  will  demand  various  graces  in 
vigorous  exercise.  Thy  I^ord  calls  thee  to  take  them  for  him 
and  for  thee — 'for  us;'  he  taking  them  along  with  thee  and 
thou  along  M'ith  him.  Thou  layest  hold  of  his  strong  arm 
and  entreatest  him  to  take  them  for  thee;  and  he  grasps  thy 
hand,  and  employs  it  to  take  them  for  him.  Diligent  searching 
is  called  for  to  find  out  their  lurking-places,  for  there  is  no 
limit  to  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  and  patient  watching  to  dis- 
cover their  outgoing  and  incoming;  so  that  while  it  grieves 
thee  to  have  them  in  thy  vineyard  at  all,  thou  mayest  some- 
times rejoice  at  their  appearing,  in  order  that  they  may  be 
caught  and  destroyed.  Then  it  requires  courage  to  put  forth 
thy  hand  to  seize  them,  for  Satan,  that  evening  wolf,  is  growl- 
ing round  them  in  defence  of  his  offspring;  and  it  demands 
stern  resolution  to  resist  the  plea  of  tenderly  sparing  the  sin, 


214  THE  FOXES  THAT  SPOIL  THE  VINES.    CHAP.  11.  15. 

because  it  is  a  little  one.  There  is,  however,  no  doubt  of  their 
destruction,  great  or  little,  if  we  bring  them  before  the  Lord 
of  the  vineyard  to  be  slain;  for  'if  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is 
faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from 
all  unrighteousness.' 

The  foxes'  tender  brood  destroy, 

Their  cries  for  pity  hush, 
Else  they  thy  buds  of  grace  and  joy. 

Thy  tender  branch,  will  crush. — ErsMne. 


CHAP.  II.  16-in.  5.    THE  NIGHT  BEFOKE  DAYBREAK.  215 


XII. 
THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  DAYBREAK. 

TKE  BRIDE'S  INTEREST  IN  HER  ABSENT  LORD— THE 
BRIDE  LONGING  FOR  BREAK  OF  DAY— THE  MIDNIGHT 
SEARCH— THE  KING  CONDUCTED  HOME. 

My  Beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his ;  he  feedeth  among  the  lilies.  Until 
the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away,  turn,  my  beloved,  and  be  thou 
like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart  upon  the  mountains  of  Bether.  By  night  on 
my  bed  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul  loveth:  I  sought  him,  but  I  found 
him  not.  I  will  rise  now,  and  go  about  the  city  in  the  streets,  and  in  the 
broad  ways  I  will  seek  him  whom  my  soul  loveth :  I  sought  him,  but  I 
found  him  not.  The  watchmen  that  go  about  the  city  found  me ;  to  whom 
I  said,  Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?  li  was  but  a  little  that  I 
passed  from  them,  but  I  found  him  whom  my  soul  loveth:  I  held  him, 
and  would  not  let  him  go,  until  I  had  brought  him  into  my  mother's 
house,  and  into  the  chamber  of  her  that  conceived  me.  I  charge  you,  O 
ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes,  and  by  the  hinds  of  the  field,  that 
ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake  my  love,  till  he  please. — Chap.  ii.  16, 17;  iii.  1-5. 

THE   bride's   interest   IN   HER   ABSENT   LORD. 

My  Beloved  is  mine. — Christ  had  come  suddenly,  or  rather 
had  suddenly  spoken  and  partially  appeared.  The  bride 
hearkens  to  his  welcome  voice,  and  endeavors  to  obtain  a  stead- 
fast sight  of  his  form,  as  he  glances  flittingly  from  behind  the 
wall,  and  shows  himself  for  an  instant  through  the  lattice. 
But  while  she  looks  and  listens  he  is  already  gone,  and  is  feed- 
ing elsewhere  among  the  lilies.  In  the  next  verse  she  calls 
aloud  to  him  as  absent,  and  beseeches  him  to  return;  but  here, 
meanwhile,  she  comforts  herself  with  the  assurance  that, 
■whether  present  or  absent  to  sense,  he  is  bound  to  her  by  a 
union  that  can  never  be  dissolved — 'My  beloved  is  mine  and 
I  am  his.'  In  the  third  chapter  of  Hosea,  the  Lord  in  a  season 
of  absence  employs  language  which  in  the  original  is  strikingly 


2l6  THE   NIGHT   BEFORE   DAYBREAK.    CHAP.  II.  16. 

similar — 'Thou  shalt  abide  for  me  many  days,  thou  shalt  not 
be  for  another,  so  will  I  also  be  for  thee.'  So  likewise,  in 
the  vgrse  before  us,  the  words  may  be  rendered  either,  '  My 
Beloved  is  for  me  and  I  am  for  him'  (Portuguese  Bible);  or 
'My  Beloved  is  mine  and  I  am  his.'  He  has  come  'leaping 
over  the  mountains,'  and  'showing  himself  through  the  lattice'; 
he  has  addressed  words  of  awakening  and  encouragement;  has 
invited  the  Bride  to  come  forth  into  his  vineyard,  and  along 
with  him  enjoy  its  luxuriant  promise  of  fruit.  But  he  has 
left  his  gracious  words  with  her,  and  not  his  own  presence ; 
yet  he  is  never  so  distant  as  to  be  without  the  reach  of  her 
voice;  and  his  words  are  a  stay  and  an  assurance  to  the  soul, 
and  warrant  the  believing  heart  to  affirm  of  an  absent  Lord — 
'My  Beloved  is  mine!' 

Our  Beloved  may  not  with  assured  certainty  be  ours ;  Christ 
may  be  longed  for  and  loved  with  the  whole  heart,  yet  the 
heart  that  cleaves  to  him  as  the  limpet  to  the  rock  may  be 
unable  to  say — ''He  is  mine.'  Yet  the  truth  is  infallible,  that 
'if  any  man  love  God  the  same  is  known  oi  Him,'  and  that 
Christ  loves  all  who  love  him.  Therefore,  O  trembling  soul! 
if  thou  lovest  him  thou  hast  him;  if  thy  heart  cleaves  to  him 
as  thy  choice  and  delight,  he  is  also  thy  possession;  if  he  is 
beloved  by  thee,  he  is  thine,  and  thy  beloved.  'My  Beloved 
is  mine,'  is  no  mean  consolation  to  the  mourner.  Hopeless 
pining  after  Christ  takes  strength  away ;  but  because  he  whom 
thou  truly  longest  for  is  assuredly  thine,  take  courage,  and  in 
his  own  strength  go  forward  seeking  him.  Cleaving  and 
longing  soul!  what  a  possession  thou. hast!  All  thou  lovest, 
all  thou  adorest,  all  thou  admirest,  all  thou  seekest,  is  already 
thine  own.  What  relief,  what  rest,  what  power,  what  glory 
this  truth  contains!  On  earth  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men 
often  sigh  hopelessly  concerning  manifold  objects  of  desire. 
Their  beloved  wealth,  beloved  power,  beloved  wisdom,  beloved 
fame,  beloved  beauty,  or  the  beloved  choice  of  their  hearts' 
aifections,  is  not  in  their  possession;  and  their  language  is — 
My  Beloved  is  not  mine,  never  was  mine,  and  may  never  be 
mine.  In  eternity  all  Avho  'rise  to  shame'  and  confusion  of 
face  will  say  regarding  all  their  desires — My  beloved  is  not 


CHAP.  II.  16.  bride's  interest  in  her  absent  lord.     217 

mine;  all  I  cared  for,  lived  for,  it  may  be,  died  for,  is  lost  for 
ever !     Poor,  disappointed,  ashamed,  lost  soul. 

But  it  is  true  of  every  follower  and  lover  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  whether  thou  knowest  it  or  not,  that  thy  Beloved  is 
thine;  for  ever  and  ever  thou  shalt  sing,  'My  Beloved  is  mine,' 
and  thou  mayest  sing  it  as  assuredly  now.  He  is  mine  by  the 
free  gift  of  himself  to  me ;  he  is  mine  to  look  on,  to  lean  upon, 
to  dwell  with;  mine  to  bear  all  my  burdens,  mine  to  discharge 
all  my  debts,  mine  to  answer  all  my  accusers,  mine  to  conquer 
all  my  foes;  mine  to  deliver  me  from  hell,  mine  to  prepare  a 
place  for  me  in  heaven;  mine  is  absence,  mine  in  presence, 
mine  in  life,  mine  in  death,  mine  in  the  grave,  mine  in  the 
judgment,  and  mine  at  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb. 

And  I  am  his. — I  am  his,  by  him  created ;  I  am  his,  by  him 
redeemed ;  I  am  twice  his,  by  original  right,  and  by  purchase 
when  I  was  lost.  I  am  his  by  the  ransom  of  his  blood,  his  by 
the  conquest  of  his  Spirit,  his  by  my  own  free  consent;  his  in 
body,  in  soul,  in  estate;  his  entirely,  his  exclusively,  his  irre- 
vocably. I  am  his  and  he  will  defend  me,  his  and  he  will 
correct  me,  his  and  he  will  make  use  of  me;  but  his  and  he 
will  love  me,  his  and  he  will  delight  in  me,  his  and  he  will 
claim  me  against  all  rivals  and  opponents;  yea  rather,  his  and 
he  doth  love  me,  his  and  he  doth  delight  in  me,  his  and  he 
claimeth  me  now  against  all  adversaries.  I  am  not  my  own, 
not  the  Church's,  not  the  world's,  not  man's,  not  the  law's, 
not  Satan's ;  but  his,  Christ's,  my  Beloved's.  I  am  not  the 
property  of  time,  nor  of  care,  nor  of  business,  nor  of  necessity; 
but  of  Christ,  for  I  am  his.  All  things,  O  believer!  are  thine 
in  Christ ;  yet  thou  art  no  one's  but  his.  All  things  pertain 
to  thee ;  but  thou  pertainest  to  none  but  Jesus.  Thou  art  the 
property  of  no  man,  the  property  of  no  creature,  the  property 
of  no  uncreated,  yet  mighty  reality,  like  sin.  I  am  my  Be- 
loved's, and  none  else  possesses  either  right  or  power  over  me, 
except  according  to  his  will  and  sufferance ;  and  if  I  am  my 
Beloved's  and  he  is  mine,  then  all  that  is  mine  is  his — all  my 
sin,  my  Aveakness,  my  condemnation,  and  my  misery;  and  all 
that  is  his  is  mine — all  his  strength,  his  righteousness,  his  wis- 
dom, his  holiness,  his  salvation,  his  glory.     His  God  is  my 


218  THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  II.  16. 

God,  bis  Father  my  Father,  his  brethren  my  brethren,  his 
heaven  my  home. 

Lord  thou  art  mine,  and  I  am  thine, 

If  mine  I  am ;  and  thine  much  more, 

Than  I  or  ought  or  can  be  mine. 

If  I  without  thee  could  be  mine, 
I  neither  should  be  mine  nor  thine. 

Lord  I  am  thine,  and  thou  art  mine: 
So  mine  thou  art,  that  something  more 
I  may  presume  thee  mine  than  thine ; 
For  thou  didst  suffer  to  restore — 
Not  thee  but  me ;  and  to  be  mine. 
Since  thou  in  death  wast  none  of  thine. 
O  be  mine  still;  still  make  me  thine, 
Or  rather  make  no  thine  and  mine. — Herbert. 

Ilefeedeth  among  the  lilies, — This  feeding  is  either  of  a  roe 
pasturing  amongst  tlie  lilies,  or  of  a  shepherd  tending  his  flock 
in  the  rich  valleys  where  they  abound ;  the  flock  not  feeding 
on  the  lilies,  but  among  them.  These  lilies  are  'the  pure  in 
heart  who  see  God' ;  they  are  'those  who  have  washed  their  robes 
and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb';  they  are  '  the 
virgins  following  the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth.'  Jesus 
feedeth  his  flock  among  the  lilies  on  earth, '  lilies  among  thorns' 
though  they  be,  and  all  the  more  because  they  are  in  the  midst 
of  the  thorns.  He  is  ever  among  them,  he  delighteth  in  them, 
he  leaveth  them  not;  among  them  he  pastures,  among  them 
he  'taketh  his  rest  at  noon!'  If  I  am  one  of  them,  he  cannot 
be  remote  from  me;  and  'he  is  mine  and  I  am  his,'  whither- 
soever he  may  have  gone.  But  he  hath  not  gone  far,  for  he 
never  goeth  out  from  amongst  the  lilies  that  he  hath  gathered 
into  his  garden;  or  if  he  do,  it  is  only  to  gather  another  and 
return  with  it.  If  he  'leave  the  ninety  and  nine  sheep,'  it  is 
only  to  make  up  the  number  of  the  flock;  by  restoring  the 
sheep  that  he  had  lost.  But  if  thou  art  one  of  the  thorns,  he 
is  not  thine  and  thou  art  not  his;  thou  knowest  neither  his 
pasture,  nor  his  resting-place,  and  his  feeding  among  the  lilies 
is  only  the  more  distant  from  thee.  Yet  many  a  thorn  has  he 
transformed  into  a  lily;  many  a  lion  into  a  lamb,  '\yilt  thou 
not  also  be  made  clean? — wlicn  shall  it  once  be?' 


CHAP.  II.  17.    THE  BRIDE  LONGING  FOR  BREAK  OF  DAY.    219 
THE  BRIDE  LONGING  FOR  BREAK  OF  DAY. 

Until  the  day  breah  [or  ivhile  the  day  is  breaking']  and  the 
shadoics  flee  away,  turn  my  Beloved,  and  be  thou  like  a  roe  or  a 
young  hart  upon  the  mountains  of  Bether.— These  mountains  of 
Bether,  if  they  had  any  earthly  form,  are  supposed  to  have 
been  the  mountains  of  Bithron,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
land  of  Israel  by  the  river  Jordan  (2  Sam.  ii.  29);  and  if  so, 
they  could  not  be  remote  from  the  place  where  Jesus  was  first 
manifested  to  Israel,  'in  Bethabara,  beyond  Jordan,  where 
John  Avas  baptizing.'     Or  if  the  name  of  Bether  is  taken  alle- 
gorically,  as  in  the  marginal  explanation,  they  are  mountains 
intersected  with  deep  rents,  and  difficult  to  pass  over;  or 
mountains  of  division  separating  between  the  Bride  and  the 
Beloved,  between  the  soul  and  Christ.     The  prayer  is  the  same 
as  in  the  closing  petition  of  the  song,  '  Make  haste  my  Be- 
loved ;'  but  the  mountains  there  are  hills  of  spices  on  which 
the  roe  is  supposed  to  feed,  and  here  they  are  hills  of  separation 
whose  craggy  pinnacles  and  sepulchral  gulfs  must  be  sur- 
mounted to  meet  the  Bride.     In  Christ's  second  coming  to  the 
marriage  of  the  Lamb,  he  has  only  to  descend  from  the  hill 
of  Zion,  the  mountains  of  spices  above,  to  meet  the  ransomed 
and  prepared  church ;  but  in  his  first  coming  to  betroth  her 
to  himself,  he  had  to  overpass  the  mountains  of  Bether— the 
whole  height  and  depth  and  breath  of  divine  law  unchanging, 
divine  law  broken,  divine  law  condemning. 

The  'breaking'  is  literally,  as  in  the  margin,  'the  breathing' 
of  the  day;  with  reference  to  the  gentle  breeze  of  early  dawn; 
or  rather,  as  has  been  happily  suggested,  in  allusion  to  the  life 
that  distinguishes  the  morning  from  the  death  of  night— as  if 
all  nature  dead  were,  with  the  dawn,  beginning  to  live  and 
breathe  (Good).  The  Bride  has  been  awakened  by  the  voice 
of  the  Beloved,  and  has  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  fleeting  form, 
as  of  a  roe  on  the  mountains.  Obedient  to  his  summons,  she 
has  come  forth  into  the  vineyard,  has  found  the  winter  past, 
has  heard  the  song  of  birds  and  the  turtle's  voice,  has  seen  the 
tender  grapes,  and  caught  the  crafty  foxes.  But  she  has  not 
found  the  Beloved  himself,  for  the  call  was  not  to  come  along 


220  THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  II.  17. 

with  him,  but  to  come  forth  to  meet  him.  In  the  following 
song,  even  on  the  summits  of  Lebanon  and  Amana,  it  is — 
'Come  with  me  my  spouse,  with  me  from  Lebanon;'  but 
hitherto  the  summons  is  only — 'Rise  my  love,  my  fair  one 
and  come  away.'  Having  come  forth  and  spent  the  day  in 
the  vineyard,  the  night  has  supervened.  But  there  has  been 
an  implied  promise  by  the  Bridegroom,  that  he  would  appear 
with  the  first  breathing  of  the  following  day;  as  if  with  one 
morning's  dawn  he  had  already  approached,  had  found  the  Bride 
shut  in  for  security  from  the  storms  of  winter,  and  asleep  as  in 
the  depth  of  night,  had  awaked  her  with  the  intelligence  of 
returning  summer,  but  had  disappeared  ere  she  was  ready  to 
accompany  him.  Next  morning  she  hopes  he  will  again  ap- 
pear; but  'her  eyes  now  prevent  the  night  watches,'  and,  while 
the  night  is  passing,  she  '  waits  for  her  Lord  more  than  they 
that  watch  for  the  morning.'  Judging  that  the  morning  can- 
not now  be  distant,  she  calls  aloud,  'Until  the  day  break' — 
before  it  has  breathed,  in  readiness  for  its  earliest  breath  and 
while  it  breathes — 'turn  my  Beloved,  come  again  with  hart-like 
feet  over  the  mountains  of  Bether.' 

Before  Christ's  first  appearance  on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan, 
and  after  the  proclamation  of  his  coming  by  the  Baptist,  the 
night  must  have  seemed  long  to  all  that  looked  for  redemption; 
and  'more  than  they  that  watch  for  the  morning'  must  their 
souls  have  '  waited  for  the  Lord.'  The  cry  must  oft  have  been 
2)resented,  that  he  would  come  as  with  the  beams  of  the  morning 
sun,  'with  healing  under  his  wings' — 'Until  the  day  break, 
turn  my  Beloved  like  a  roe  upon  the  mountains!'  The  Chris- 
tian Church  having  now  obtained  the  first,  is  looking  for  the 
second  appearing  of  the  Lord  of  glory,  and  for  the  dawning 
of  the  eternal  day.  It  is  but  moonlight  at  best,  with  much 
darkness,  sin,  and  misery,  within  and  without,  through  all  this 
night  of  time.  The  shadows  of  the  evening  are  steadily  wearing 
away,  the  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at  hand;  yet  always 
the  coldest,  and  sometimes  the  darkest  hour  of  the  night  is  the 
hour  before  the  day  begins  to  breathe ;  and  the  Church's  cry 
is — 'Until  the  day  break — while  it  is  preparing  to  dawn — turn 
my  Beloved  upon  the  mountains  of  Bether!' 


CHAP.  II.  17.    THE  BRIDE  LONGING  FOR  BREAK  OF  DAY.    221 

In  the  night  of  nature's  daily  rest,  when  the  labors  of  the 
day  are  done ;  when  Christ  has  awaked  us  in  the  morning  as 
with  the  foot  of  the  mountain  roe,  and  called  us  to  our  allotted 
work  and  care  and  joy,  and  we  have  gone  forth  to  our  labor 
till  the  evening;  when  the  twelve  hours'  work  in  the  vineyard 
has  not  been  without  the  song  of  birds  on  the  right  hand,  and 
the  annoyance  of  foxes  on  the  left ;  and  when  now  the  shades 
of  evening  have  gathered  again— how  seasonable  is  it  in  retiring 
for  rest  to  present  the  prayer,  '  Until  the  day  break  and  the 
shadows  flee  away,  turn  ray  Beloved  and  be  thou  like  a  roe 
on  the  mountains  of  Bether,'  greeting  thy  suppliant  at  the 
dawn  of  morning ! 

In  the  night  of  providential  or  spiritual  trial,  tliere  should 
be  earnest  prayer  for  Christ's  coming  quickly,  as  on  the  wings 
of  the  dawn;  and,  in  this  connection,  Solomon's  petition  is  ex- 
pressly fitted,  and  probably  designed,  for  the  soul  described 
by  his  fiither  David—'  I  wait  for  the  Lord  more  than  they 
that  watch  for  the  morning.'  But  specially,  when  the  shades 
of  evening  are  both  gathering  thickest,  and  fast  preparing  to 
disperse  in  the  near  approach  of  death,  we  should  earnestly 
beseech  the  Lord  Jesus  to  'come  quickly,  like  the  roe  upon 
the  mountains  of  Bether.'  It  is  still  dark,  but  'the  night  is 
far  spent,  and  the  dawn  of  eterui^l  day  at  hand' — 'Until  the 
day  break,'  before  it  breaks,  and  while  in  the  process  of  break- 
ing, 'turn,  my  Beloved,'  outstrip  and  anticipate  that  glorious 
dawn;  let  it  not  break  upon  my  soul  till  thou  hast  'come'  to 
me  thyself  '  like  the  roe  over  the  mountains  of  Bether.' 

Among  the  shadows  that  flee  at  dawn  of  day,  are  to  be  in- 
cluded likewise,  the  types  and  ceremonies  of  the  Jewish  Church, 
which  were  not  the  substance,  but  the  shadow  of  him  that  was 
to  come,  and  which  passed  away  for  ever  when  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  arose.  As  those  rites  disappeared  like  evening 
shadows  at  the  first  coming  of  the  Lord,  so  the  precious  means 
of  o-racc  which  we  now  enjoy  w^ill  vanish  when  he  comes  the 
second  time,  to  receive  us  to  himself.  For  illustration  of  this 
truth,  we  must  recur  to  Ralph  Erskine,  to  w^hose  metrical 
paraphrase  we  have  been  so  often  indebted,  and  whose  breath 
is  so  fragrant  of  the  gospel  as  to  make  us  forget  the  oc- 


222  THE  NIGHT  BEFOUE  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  1. 

casional  uncoutlmess  of  his  dress ;  although  in  this  instance 
we  are  compelled  to  alter  certain  of  his  words  which  would  no 
longer  fitly  convey  his  thoughts : — 

Even  word  and  sacraments  shall  pass, 

Whicli  darkly  show  him  here ; 
For  then  he'll  break  the  misty  glass, 

And  face  to  face  appear. 

Hence  shall  dividing  hills  and  rents, 

Between  my  soul  and  thee. 
Be  to  my  faith  but  arguments. 

To  haste  thy  march  to  me. 

Welcome,  the  great,  the  glorious  store. 

Adieu !  sweet  earnests  all ; 
I'll  doubt,  I'll  fear,  I'll  sin,  no  more, 

Christ  doth  to  glory  call. 


THE   MIDNIGHT  SEARCH. 

By  night  on  my  bed  1  sought  him. — This  instructive  narrative 
is  an  inspired  expression  by  Solomon  of  the  thoughts  of  his 
father  David,  when  'his  soul  waited  for  the  Lord  as  they  that 
watch  for  the  morning.'  With  David,  the  coming  of  the  Lord 
is  the  rising  of  the  morning  light;  and  with  Solomon,  the 
breaking  of  the  day  and  the  scattering  of  the  shadows  are 
nothing  else  than  the  appearing  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness, 
gilding  the  mountain  tops  with  his  beams.  For  this  morning 
llie  Bride  has  longed  (ii.  17);  waiting  for  it,  she  passes  a  sleep- 
less night  (iii.  1);  and  when  it  lingers  and  dawns  not,  she  rises 
and  goes  forth  to  look  for  and  to  meet  its  earliest  rays — the 
'soul  waiting  for  the  Lord  more  than  they  that  watch  for  the 
morning.'  In  the  bridal  imagery  of  the  Song,  this  is  set  forth 
by  her  calling  at  midnight  to  her  absent  and  distant  Lord, 
who  is  on  the  further  side  of  the  lofty  mountains  (ii.  17);  and 
then  in  larger  detail  she  narrates  the  history  of  the  desolate 
night  (iii.  1).  She  has  prayed — 'Turn  my  Beloved!'  her 
spirit  has  made  diligent  search — '  I  sought  him  whom  my  soul 
loveth.'  She  has  expected  a  response  to  her  earnest  call,  and 
counts  that  he  must  be  already  on  the  way,  traversing  the 


CHAP.  IIT.  1.  THE   MIDNIGHT   SEARCrr.  223 

mountains,  and  bringing  morning  with  him.  But  there  is  no 
echo  of  liis  voice,  no  sound  of  his  footsteps,  no  ray  through 
the  gloom — 'I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  not.'  Tiien, 
since  he  does  not  come  to  her,  she  must  go  forth  in  quest  ot 
Him ;  she  rises,  goes  about  the  streets,  inquires  at  the  watchmen 
as  for  one  whom  she  need  not  name,  because  he  ought  to  be  well 
known  to  them  all,  passes  them,  and  finds  the  King.  In  the 
light  of  the  morning  now — for  throughout  the  Song  He  is  the 
morning  light — she  conducts  him  to  her  mother's  house,  pre- 
vails on  him  to  rest  beneath  its  roof,  and  as  having  ^the  Heir 
of  all  things'  for  her  guest,  she  charges  the  daughters  of  Jeru- 
salem gathering  round  in  the  daylight,  not  to  abridge  by  any 
intrusion  the  period  of  the  prized  sojourn,  nor  hasten  by  one 
moment  the  hour  of  his  departure. 

Historically,  the  parable  describes  the  close  of  the  ministry 
of  John  the  Baptist.  It  is  impossible  in  the  language  of  alle- 
gory more  exactly  to  describe  the  state  of  the  people  on  whom 
the  light  of  Jesus  first  shone,  than  by  this  image  of  ^ night.' 
The  term  is  the  very  same  as  the  gospel  narrative  constantly 
employs — 'the  people  sat  in  darkness — under  the  shadow  of 
death.'  Nor  could  figurative  and  literal  language  more  com- 
pletely tally,  than  the  search  upon  the  bed  for  the  absent  Lord 
agrees  with  the  record  of  'all  men  musing  in  their  heart  con- 
cerning John  whether  he  were  the  Christ  or  no.'  The  '  musing 
in  the  heart,'  and  the  'meditating  on  the  bed,'  alike  express 
thought  without  external  effort;  in  the  one  case,  reclining  but 
not  reposing  by  night;  and  in  the  other,  sitting  in  darkness. 
Then  follows  the  active  and  public  inquiry,  by  sending  Priests 
and  Levites  to  John  to  ask  for  Christ — the  disappointment  when 
they  'seek  and  find  him  not'  in  the  person  of  the  Baptist — 
the  speedy  discovery  'but  a  little  way'  onward,  when  Jesus 
himself  comes  to  be  baptized — the  open  entrance  of  Christ  'into 
our  mother's  house'  to  dwell  in  the  midst  of  us — the  dove- 
like descent  and  abiding  on  him  of  the  Holy  Ghost — the  rest 
of  the  Beloved,  not  '  to  be  stirred  up  nor  awaked  till  he  please.' 

Practically,  and  in  reference  to  literal  earthly  night,  the 
believer  may  retire  to  rest  without  the  presence  of  Christ — to 
outward  rest,  but  neither  with  spiritual  comfort  nor  bodily 


224  THE  NIGHT  BEFOP.E  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  1. 

repose.  If  possible,  he  had  acted  better  otherwise ;  if  more 
entreaty  would  have  found  Christ  before  resting,  it  had  been 
not  only  holier  and  safer,  but  would  have  secured  more  quiet 
slumber.  But  the  duties  of  the  day  were  done,  the  })rayer  of 
the  evening  over,  and  the  season  of  rest  had  arrived.  Another 
coming  day  demands  this  night's  repose,  and  Christ  found  or 
Christ  beyond  the  mountains  of  Betlier,  the  repose  must  be 
taken.  Now  it  cannot  always  be  expected  that  the  soul  by 
effort,  or  volition,  or  patience,  shall  obtain  Christ's  presence 
within  an  allotted  time;  yet,  through  grace,  the  believer  will 
often  be  successful.  If  repose  is  preferred  to  Christ,  or  if  rest 
and  Christ  are  in  equal  balances,  we  gain  or  seek  to  gain  the 
chosen  sleep;  but  it  is  not  the  rest  of  the  Lord's  beloved,  for 
we  have  lost  Him  who  is  better  far  than  rest.  But  if  Christ 
is  first  and  best  and  most  necessary,  if  he  is  more  to  us  than 
food  or  sleep,  he  is  often,  though  not  always,  quickly  found, 
without  actual  loss  either  of  the  time  or  of  the  sleep  ^vhich  we 
were  willing  to  sacrifice  for  his  sake.  Our  sleep  is  then  sweet 
unto  us  and  refreshing,  for  the  Lord  himself  is  dwelling  in  us, 
and  resting  with  us. 

But  if  the  Bride  is  capable  of  seeking  repose  without  Christ, 
she  is  not  able  to  find  it;  for  none  but  Christ  will  satisfy  the 
child  of  God.  There  is  nothing  easier  than  to  deceive  the  na- 
tural mind  with  an  imaginary  saviour;  it  is  easily  deceived 
and  easily  satisfied.  But  there  is  nothing  harder  than  to 
satisfy  the  soul  that  is  taught  of  God,  without  Christ  himself, 
or  to  beguile  that  soul  with  a  false  comforter — 'by  night  on 
my  bed  I  sought  him,  I  sought  him  but  I  found  him  not.' 
Solomon,  now  or  afterwards,  knewM'ell  both  the  midnight  seek- 
ing and  the  midnight  finding  of  the  Lord.  In  a  dream  by 
night  God  said  to  him  at  Gibeon,  'Ask  what  I  shall  give;' 
and  by  night  upon  his  bed  Solomon  prayed — 'O  Lord  my  God! 
I  am  but  a  little  child,  give  therefore  thy  servant  an  under- 
standing heart.'  In  this  instance  it  was  of  the  Lord's  giving, 
with  apparently  brief  asking  at  the  moment,  as  is  often  the 
case  with  divine  blessings ;  but  both  the  promise  and  the  prayer 
were,  doubtless,  in  cpnnexion  witli  much  previous  supplication 
and  inquiry.     'My  son!'  saith  he,  in  words  which  must  have 


CHAP.  III.  1.  THE   MIDNIGHT   SEARCH.  225 

been  the  fruit  of  experience;  if  thou  ericst  after  knowledge 
and  liftest  up  thy  voice  for  understanding,  if  thou  scekest  her 
as  silver  and  searchest  for  licr  as  for  hid  treasures,  then  slialt 
thou  find  the  knowledge  of  God.'  So,  likewise,  of  the  word 
if  constantly  embraced,  he  declares— '  When  thou  goest  it  shall 
lead  thee,  when  thou  sleepest  it  shall  keep  thee,  and  when  thou 
wakest  it  shall  talk  with  thee';  discoursing  as  one  well  ac- 
quainted with  midnight  and  morning  communion  with  his 
God.  In  the  case  of  the  Bride  in  this  song,  the  word  had 
talked  with  her  when  she  awoke,  for  she  heard  the  voice  of 
her  Beloved  calling;  when  she  walked,  it  had  led  her  through 
the  vineyards  ;  and  now  she  desires  to  bind  it  about  her  heart 
by  night  that  it  may  Mceep  her  while  she  sleeps,'  and  talk  with 
her  when  she  awakes  again.  But  she  has  lost  the  word  and 
cannot  recover  it,  she  cannot  now  hear  the  voice  of  the  Good 
Shepherd,  and  therefore  by  night  upon  her  bed  she  cannot 
rest. 

Hhn  ichom  my  soul  lovdli. — Four  times  over  in  these  four 
verses  she  calls  Christ  by  this  name;  and  both  here  and  else- 
where it  is  always  in  absence  that  he  is  so  designated.  'He 
loved  me,'  is  the  language  of  gratitude  and  joy ;  4ie  whom  my 
soul  loveth,'  is  the  language  of  earnest  desire.  'To  him  that 
loved  us  and  washed  us  in  his  own  blood,'  is  the  song  of  heaven; 
'I  sought  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth,'  is  the  preparatory  long- 
ing on  earth  for  singing  that  song  above.  '  I  sought  him  whoiu 
my  soul  loveth' — loveth  now;  but  him  whom  I  once  neglected, 
despised,  forsook,  hated,  betrayed,  sold  for  thirty  pieces  of  sil- 
ver, crucified.  I  sought  him  with  all  he  is  and  all  he  has, 
with  'his  lips  dropping  sweet-smelling  myrrh,'  but  with  'the 
two-edged  sword  in  his  mouth;'  I  sought  him,  and  would  ob- 
ject to  nothing  that  pertains  to  him,  if  I  could  only  find  him- 
self. 

I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  no^.— Disappointment  and 
desolation  are  the  result  of  the  search.  The  unanswered 
prayer,  'Turn  my  Beloved!'  has  been  repeated  now,  but  with 
no  better  success,  nay,  with  a  result  more  distinctly  adverse. 
When  the  Bride  had  called  on  Jesus  to  return,  she  did  not 
know  that  the  petition  had  not  prospered ;  he  had  heard  it. 


226  THE   NIGHT   BEFORE   DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  2. 

doubtless,  and  might  be  coming ;  but  the  lapse  of  time  at 
length  induces  the  fear  that  there  will  be  no  response.  There- 
fore she  begins  again  to  pray,  and  her  ^spirit  to  make  diligent 
search';  but  the  result  is  disappointment,  definite  and  decided 
failure— 'I  found  him  not.'  She  does  not  therefore  deny  nor 
doubt  that  she  had  sought  him,  but  owns  it — 'I  sought  him' — 
certainly  and  sincerely.  But  on  the  other  hand,  she  does  not 
deceive  herself  with  the  supposition  that  she  may  have  found, 
vdieu  she  has  no  token  to  prove  it;  rare  truth  and  honesty — 
'I  found  him  not.'  Thousands  of  self-deceived  and  self- 
satisfied  souls  might  yet  be  saved  in  the  day  of  the  Lord,  were 
they  only  faithful  enough  to  themselves  to  confess — 'I  found 
him  not,' — I  have  never  found  him,  I  have  never  seen  him, 
neither  known  him.  Dying,  yet  undying  soul !  it  brings  no 
safety  to  thyself,  no  real  peace  or  comfort,  to  flatter  thyself 
with  a  false  hope,  Ho  boast  thyself  of  a  fake  gift  and  become 
like  wind  and  clouds  without  rain.'  It  is  as  much  as  thy  life 
is  worth  to  speak  the  truth  to  thine  own  heart,  and  say — 'I 
found  him  not.'  Thou  hast  then  some  opening  feature  of  the 
Bride  of  Christ. 

The  same  case,  but  more  fully  expounded,  with  a  larger 
mingling  of  sorrow,  and  in  fuller  detail  altogether,  is  described 
by  Asaph  in  the  seventy -seventh  Psalm:  'I  cried  unto  God 
with  my  voice,  even  unto  God  with  my  voice.  In  the  day  of 
my  trouble  I  sought  the  Lord,  my  sore  ran  in  the  night  and 
ceased  not ;  my  soul  refused  to  be  comforted ;  I  remembered 
God  and  was  troubled ;  I  complained  and  my  spirit  was  over- 
whelmed: Thou  boldest  mine  eyes  waking;  I  call  to  remem- 
brance my  song  in  the  night,  I  commune  with  mine  own  heart, 
and  my  spirit  made  diligent  search.' 

I  will  rite  now  and  go  about  the  city. — The  rising  and  going 
about  imply  the  shaking  not  only  of  all  slumber  away,  but 
of  all  temptation  to  slumber,  that  the  whole  man  may  be 
awake  for  God ;  the  devoting  of  the  undivided  energies  of  mind 
and  soul,  and  of  the  body  itself  so  far  as  it  can  co-operate,  to 
'seek  the  Lord'  Jesus  Christ;  and  allowing  no  other  object  to 
take  any  place  in  the  heart,  or  to  engage  any  part  of  the  entire 
man.     'I  will  rise  now' — a  trood  resolution;  the  weakest  of 


CHAP.  III.  2.  THE   MIDNIGHT  SEARCH.  227 

all  things,  or  else  the  strongest  of  all.  ^Son !  go  into  my  vine- 
yard ' — *  I  go  sir/  is  the  answer — I  go,  the  intention ;  but  other 
objects  intervene,  and  he  has  not  gone.  'I  will  arise  and  go 
to  my  Father' — and  he  arose  and  went,  with  active,  prompt, 
instantaneous  repentance.  The  whole  repentance  and  return 
of  the  prodigal  son  were  contained  within  the  kernel  of  that 
resolution. 

There  are  two  resolutions,  distinct  and  radically  different; 
one  kind  of  resolution,  that  costs  nothing  and  comes  to  noth- 
ing— another,  which  endures  all  the  conflict,  and  contains  all 
the  conquest.  The  first  deceives  and  destroys — it  is  a  mere 
good  desire,  or  at  best  a  good  intention.  It  counts  not  the 
cost,  but  goes  forth  with  ten  thousand  against  the  enemy  with 
twenty  thousand,  is  overthrown  in  the  battle,  or  turns  at  the 
mere  sight  of  the  sword.  The  difficulty  does  not  consist  in 
forming,  but  in  keeping  it.  The  earth  is  full  of  the  leafy 
twigs  of  such  resolutions,  and  the  fire  that  is  not  quenched  is 
fed  with  their  fruitless  branches.  The  other  resolution  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God,  is  sure  to  conquer,  because  it  has 
fought  and  conquered  already.  The  difficulty  consists  not  in 
keeping,  but  in  forming  it;  the  whole  elements,  friendly  and 
adverse,  are  gathered  together  at  its  first  formation ;  there  the 
whole  conflict  mingles,  and  there  is  seldom  a  second  battle. 
'I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father' — there  was  no  difficulty  in 
rising  nor  in  going  but  such  as  was  easily  surmounted,  for  the 
whole  contest  lay  in  the  question — Shall  I  arise  or  shall  I  not? 
When  once  the  heart,  yielding  to  the  Spirit,  resolved  'I  shall 
arise,'  the  chain  was  broken — the  slave  sprang  to  his  feet  a 
freeman — the  servant  arose  a  child — the  famished  weaklino- 
stood  up  a  strong  man  nerved  for  the  race.  In  the  homely  but 
significant  image  of  an  old  divine,  'an  honest  resolution  is 
often  to  duty,  like  a  needle  that  draws  the  thread  after  it' 
(Durham).  As,  when  the  sharp  needle  firmly  threaded  has 
perforated  the  fabric,  the  thread  passes  without  a  second  effi)rt, 
so  does  the  needle's  eye  of  a  true  resolution  carry  within  itself 
the  purposed  action  which  quickly  follows;  'I  will  arise  and 
go — and  he  arose  and  went.' 

In  the  streets  and  in  the  broad  ways  I  will  seek  him  whom  my 


228  THE  XIGIIT  BEFOPvE  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  2. 

soul  loveth. — Let  the  wise  man  explain  his  own  words,  let  the 
Preacher  interpret  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel.  'Wisdom  cricth 
without,  she  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets,  she  crieth  in  the 
chief  places  of  concourse,  in  the  opening  of  the  gates;  in  the 
city  she  uttereth  her  words, — Turn  ye  at  ray  re))roof — behold 
I  will  pour  out  niy  Spirit  upon  you,  I  will  make  known  ray 
words  unto  you. — Wisdom  hath  builded  her  house,  she  hath 
hewn  out  her  seven  pillars,  she  hath  killed  her  beasts,  she  hath 
mingled  her  wine,  she  hath  also  furnished  her  table — Come 
eat  of  my  bread,  and  drink  of  the  wine  which  I  have  mingled' 
(Prov.  i.  20-23;  ix.  1-5).  The  streets  and  the  broad  ways 
are,  doubtless,  the  places  of  concourse,  where  'Christ  the  wis- 
dom of  God' publishes  by  his  messengers  the  good  tiding  of 
gieat  joy — the  'gathering  of  two  or  three  together'  in  the 
name  of  Jesus,  with  'Christ  in  the  raldist  of  them/  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel  in  the  house  of  God,  the  'eating  of  bread 
and  drinking  of  wine'  at  the  sacramental  table.  It  must  not 
be  overlooked,  that  this  is  the  first  time  the  Bride  speaks  in 
such  a  strain.  She  had  never  been  separate  from  the  entire 
Church  of  Christ,  and  could  say  along  with  others,  'we  will 
remember  thy  love;'  but  in  her  difficulties  she  had  sought  de- 
liverance directly  from  Christ,  and  was  jealous  of  the  tents  oi 
his  companions.  In  reply,  he  had  counselled  her  to  'go  forth 
by  the  footsteps  of  the  flock,'  and  in  these  returning  trials  she 
has  not  forgot  the  command ;  but,  without  a  second  injunction, 
'goes  forth  into  the  streets'  of  Jerusalem — to  the  outward  ordi- 
nances of  the  Gospel.  The  more  the  soul  grows  in  grace  and 
the  less  it  leans  on  ordinances,  the  more  will  it  prize  them, 
need  them,  and  profit  by  them.  The  recorded  experience  of 
Asaph  will  be  opened  in  the  great  day,  with  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  concurring  signatures  adliibited.  Grieved 
and  perplexed,  with  his  footing  ail  but  lost,  and  with  his  own 
heart-searcliings  vain,  he  finds  no  key  to  the  baffling  mystery 
till  he  'enters  the  sanctuary  of  God,'  and  there  ha>s  the  secret 
unlocked,  not  by  special  revelation,  but  by  the  opening  of  his 
heart  to  apprehend  the  word  of  truth.  In  the  present  case  the 
result  is  not  so  immediate,  for  the  Bride  adds — 

I  sought  him,  but  I  found  him  n-ot. — In  these  same  streets  and 


CHAP.  III.  3.  THE   MIDNIGHT   SEARCH.  229 

broad  places  of  Jerusalem  multitudes  never  find  Christ,  with 
whom  the  reason  is  simply,  that  they  never  seek  him.  'I 
found  him  not'  is  true  of  tens  of  thousands  every  Sabbath,  of 
whom  haply  not  one  in  a  hundred  corifesses  the  truth  which 
the  Bride  owns.  They  go  with  no  definite  object  to  the  house 
of  God,  with  no  express  purpose  of  finding  Christ;  and  if  they 
seek  the  praise  of  man  or  the  approval  of  conscience,  they  find 
what  their  soul  loves,  and  are  satisfied.  Others  join  the  com- 
pany of  worshippers  seeking  Christ,  but  without  faithfulness 
enough  to  test  and  own  the  result,  and  to  confess — 'I  sought 
him,  but  I  found  him  not.'  But  in  the  Bride  there  is  the  same 
sincerity  as  before;  the  same  clear  reckoning  of  the  result  of 
public  means  of  grace,  as  there  had  been  of  secret  efforts;  and 
the  same  sad  disappointment — 'I  found  him  not.'  There  is 
nothing  in  the  beautiful  gates  of  Jerusalem,  or  in  the  highest 
places  of  its  paths,  that  can  compensate  for  the  absence  of  the 
Beloved ;  and  she  wanders  mournful  and  desolate.  But,  sorrow- 
ing Bride  of  the  Lamb !  thy  search  shall  not  be  fruitless ;  for 
the  promise  to  the  seed  of  Jacob  is  thine,  and  thou  'shalt  not 
seek  his  face  in  vain.' 

The  icatchmen  that  go  about  the  city  found  me,  to  whom  I  said, 
Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  lovethf — The  Bride  had  been  directed 
to  have  regard  to  the  shepherds,  as  well  as  to  the  footsteps  of 
the  flock,  and  she  forgets  not  the  injunction,  but  resorts  to 
them  personally,  or  in  the  ordinances  of  the  Lord's  house.  In 
the  place  of  prayer  and  under  the  preached  word,  her  inquiry 
at  the  shepherds  is,  'Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?'  How 
easy  to  preach,  how  impossible  not  to  preach  Christ  and  him 
crucified,  were  there  many  such  inquiring  worshippers  in  our 
assemblies;  many  eagerly  looking  through  ministers  and  means 
to  Christ  himself!  But  how  different  oft  the  various  occupants 
of  the  same  pew !  the  fool  with  his  eyes  to  the  ends  of  the  earth; 
the  formalist  thankful  that  he  is  not  like  other  men ;  beside 
them,  and  unknown  to  them,  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb  come  to 
to  seek,  to  find,  to  worship  Him,  with  the  heart  silently  yet 
loudly  calling,  'Saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?'  With 
such  hearers  there  is  nothing  more  common  than  the  experi- 
ence— 'The  watchman  found  me'  they  spoke  tome  individu- 


230  THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  4. 

ally,  and  described  my  own  character  and  case.  Or,  failing 
in  the  public  ministrations,  this  longing  soul  seeks  the  man  of 
God,  the  pastor  or  teacher,  and  is  not  ashamed  to  confess  both 
her  love  to  Christ  and  her  want  of  his  presence.  'Watchman, 
what  of  the  night?'  is  the-demand.  These  watchmen  are  ^stars 
in  the  right  hand '  of  Jesus ;  and,  by  God's  blessing,  they  oft 
become  to  the  inquiring  soul  like  the  star  that  showed  to  the 
eastern  pilgrims  the  spot  where  the  infant  Jesus  lay. 

When  my  Beloved's  hid  from  you, 
"What  paths,  what  means  of  grace, 

What  course  do  ye  yourselves  pursue. 
To  see  his  lovely  face? 

Tell  me,  ye  watchmen  of  the  night, 

I  pray  you  tell  me  where 
Did  ye  espy  my  soul's  delight, 

That  I  may  seek  him  there? 

0  happy  stars,  if  ye  might  be 

My  guides  to  Jesus  now ! 
Seers,  did  ye  my  Saviour  see  ; 

Pray  tell  me  where  and  how? — ErsHne. 


THE  KING  COKDUCTED  HOME. 

It  was  hut  a  little  that  I  passed  from  them. — These  watchmen 
appear  to  have  been  faithful,  wise,  and  tender,  although  from 
them  the  Bride  found  not  the  resort  of  the  Beloved.  They 
injured  her  not,  upbraided  her  not;  but  seem  both  to  have 
directed  her  to  Christ,  and  themselves  to  have  been  very  near 
Him,  because  she  has  'passed  them  but  a  little,'  only  a  few 
steps,  when  she  finds  her  Beloved.  But  the  best  of  servants 
is  not  the  Lord,  the  first  of  the  saved  is  not  the  Saviour,  the 
star  that  points  to  Bethlehem  is  not  the  Sun  that  has  risen 
there ;  and  those  who  have  most  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  can- 
not impart  that  Spirit  to  reveal  him  to  another.  'I  passed 
from  them/ — they  are  guide-posts  pointing  to  a  further  goal, 
and  past  them  toward  that  goal  she  hastens. 

But  I  found  him  whom  my  soul  loveth. — What  an  exceeding 
great  reward  of  all  her  seeking!     I  found  hira,  the  pearl  of 


CHAP.  III.  4.         THE  KING    CONDUCTED    HOME.  231 

great  price,  hid  from  all  the  rich  among  men;  I  found  him, 
the  treasure  of  all  wisdom  and  knowledge,  hid  from  all  the 
wise  in  this  world ;  I  found  him,  the  power  of  God,  hid  from 
all  the  potentates  of  earth.  I  found  him — I,  a  man,  found 
the  Lord  of  Glory ;  I,  a  slave  to  sin,  found  the  great  Deliverer; 
I,  the  child  of  darkness  found  the  Light  of  life;  I,  the  utter- 
most of  the  lost,  found  my  Saviour,  and  my  God;  I,  widowed 
and  desolate,  found  my  Friend,  my  Beloved,  my  Husband ! 
Go  and  do  likewise,  sons  and  daughters  of  Zion,  and  He  will 
be  found  of  you,  'for  then  shall  ye  find,  when  ye  search  Avith 
all  your  heart.' 

I  held  him  and  would  not  let  him  go. — Unheld,  the  King  will 
go  away;  he  is  willing  to  be  held,  yet  not  willing  to  remain 
without  being  held.  'Jesus  made  as  though  he  would  have 
gone  further,'  but  'I  held  him,  and  would  not  let  him  go'; 
he  pled  'let  me  go  for  the  day  breaketh,'  but  'I  held  him' 
and  said, 'I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me.'  A 
child  may  hold  the  chariot  wheels  of  a  king ;  for  while  a  weak 
cause  enfeebles  the  strongest  of  the  sons  of  men,  a  cause  strong 
and  urgent  imparts  strength  and  courage  to  the  feeblest.  A 
child  with  a  message  of  life  and  death,  has  stood  in  front  of 
those  smoking  chariots  that  rush  along  their  polished  path- 
ways with  the  speed  of  the  wind,  and  sometimes  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  tempest;  has  planted  himself  firmly  between 
the  iron  lines;  has,  with  outstretched  hands,  called  on  the  con- 
ductors to  pause,  has  arrested  the  carriages  in  their  full  career, 
and  saved  a  multitude  of  precious  lives.  A  child  in  the  king- 
dom of  grace,  with  an  errand  of  life  and  death  for  himself  or 
for  others,  with  the  boldness  and  energy  of  living  faith,  may 
arrest  the  chariot  of  the  King  of  kings  till  the  King  has  re- 
ceived his  petition,  answered  his  prayer,  granted  pardon  to  the 
condemned,  and  salvation  to  the  lost. 

The  conclusion  of  this  Song  is  not  dissimilar  to  the  last,  its 
charge  not  to  awake  the  Beloved  is  exactly  the  same,  yet  how 
different  the  process !  There,  the  King  leads  the  Bride  into  his 
chambers,  brings  her  into  his  banqueting-house.  Here,  it  is  the 
Bride  that  leads  the  King,  and  conducts  him  to  her  mother's 
house;  conducts  him  willingly  yet  seemingly  against  his  will, — 


232  THE  NIGHT    BEFORE    DAYBREAK.  CHAP.  III.  4. 

'I  would  not  let  him  go.'  The  'worm  Jacob'  grasps  the  arm 
of  the  Almighty ;  stirring  himself,  takes  hold  on  it,  and 
'wrestles'  vnth  'the  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host',  the  Angel  of 
the  Covenant.  Suppose  angelic  strength  confined  within  the 
form  of  a  worm,  how  would  every  fibre  of  that  weak  frame  be 
stretched  and  tried  to  the  uttermost  in  the  forth-putting  of  the 
gigantic  might  lodged  within  it !  So,  the  weak  Jacob,  filled  not 
with  spirit  angelic,  but  with  the  Holy  Ghost  working  in  him 
miglitily,  has  every  faculty  of  mind,  soul,  and  spirit  within 
him  moved  and  energized  to  its  utmost  limits,  to  wrestle  with 
the  mighty  One  of  Jacob.  Clinging  to  the  Lord  of  hosts  with 
a  strength  in  him  and  yet  not  of  him — working  through  him, 
put  forth  by  him,  yet  not  his  own — he  says,  '  I  will  not  let 
thee  go  ';  he  holds  the  King  and  does  not  let  him  go ;  and  the 
King  yields,  goes  not  away,  but  suffers  himself  to  be  conducted 
by  his  weak  conqueror  whither  he  willeth. 

'  In  freedom  great  without  offence, 

And  helped  to  wrestle  still; 
With  holy,  humble  violence, 
I  won  Him  to  my  will.' 

Until  I  had  brought  him  into  my  mother's  house,  and  into  the 
chamber  of  her  that  conceived  mc. — As  the  manner  in  whicli  this 
divine  repose  is  introduced  in  this  second  Song  is  difterent 
from  the  first,  so  is  likewise  the  reason  on  account  of  which 
that  holy  rest  is  desired.  There  it  was  eminently  personal — 
'his  banner  over  me  was  love;'  yet  by  no  means  exclusively, 
for  the  resolution  had  been,  '  we  will  run  after  thee.'  Here, 
the  personal  is  not  excluded  but  strongly  marked,  'I  sought 
him  but  I  found  him  not';  but  the  reference  to  others  is  very 
special,  and  their  welfare  occupies  a  large  place  in  the  result — 
'I  M'ould  not  let  him  go  till  I  had  brought  him  into  my 
Mother's  house.' 

But  who  is  this  Mother?  Every  child  of  God  has  two  na- 
tures, the  old  and  the  new;  two  births,  the  first  after  the  flesh, 
the  second  after  the  Spirit;  and  two  mothers.  Eve  who  is  in 
bondao-e  with  her  children,  and  'the  New  Jerusalem  which  is 
free,  and  is  the  mother  of  us  all.'     Doubtless,  first,  it  is  this 


CHAP.  III.  4.  THE    KING    CONDUCTED    HOME.  2-33 

New  Jerusalem,  the  Church  of  the  living  God,  the  spiritual 
Ziou  where  'this  man  and  that  man  was  born/  who  is  'our 
mother';  and  'her  chambers'  are  the  gatherings  together  of  the 
saints  in  the  name  of  Jesus.  Her  we  own,  we  claim,  we  glorv 
in  as  our  honored  mother;  and  'better  that  our  right  hand 
should  forget  her  cunning,  than  we  should  forget  Jerusalem, 
or  prefer  her  not  above  our  chief  joy.'  Christ,  found  by  us, 
ought  never  to  be  let  go  without  an  earnest  effort  to  bring  him 
within  the  Avails  of  the  Christian  congregation,  the  Christian 
community,  the  commonwealth  of  all  the  Israel  of  God. 
Blessed  are  they  who  thus  love  Zion,  and  blessed  M'ould  Zion 
be  of  the  Lord,  did  all  her  daugthers  so  love  her  and  so  plead 
on  her  behalf! 

In  remembering  Zion,  however,  we  must  not  forget  'Jeru- 
salem, which  is  still  in  bondage  with  her  children,'  and  that 
from  her  as  a  mother  we  are  descended.  Regarding  her,  some 
of  the  Christian  fathers  specially  interjareted  these  words,  taking 
them  to  intimate  the  conversion  of  the  Jews  to  Christ  (Greg. 
Great);  for  her  firstborn  son  is  our  elder  brother  who  has 
been  angry  with  us,  and  will  not  come  into  our  Father's  house 
on  account  of  the  music  and  dancing  that  have  greeted  our 
reception.  Blessed  for  ever  shall  they  be  among  the  Gentiles, 
and  honored  in  Israel  to  all  generations,  who,  finding  Christ 
for  themselves,  shall  so  retain  him,  as  not  to  let  him  go  till  he 
return  again  to  Abraham's  children,  and  He,  and  we,  and  they, 
dwell  together  within  one  'mother's  house' — one  flock,  in  one 
fold,  with  one  Shepherd. 

The  Gentiles  ouce  got  to  the  height  of  sin, 
And  fuluesse  of  the  saved  come  to  hght; 
The  elder  brother  Jew  shall  straight  come  in, 
And  mourn  for  that  he  had  no  sooner  sight. 
Their  coming  in  shall  be  the  Gentiles'  light, 
Nor  till  that  time  will  sun  again  be  bright. 

H.  Clapliam,. 

But  we  have  another  mother  and  other  brethren  in  the  hu- 
man family  from  which  we  are  sprung.  The  Church  has  the 
first,  not  the  only  claim  on  our  affections ;  the  perishing  world 
has  its  right  to  a  large  share  of  our  pity  and  our  prayers. 


234  THE   NIGHT    BEFORE    DAYCKEAK.  CHAP.  III.  5. 

'  God  SO  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son, 
that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life';  and  our  love  ought  to  be  largo,  like  that  of 
our  heavenly  Father.  His  elect  uncalled  are  in  the  world; 
for  them  the  world  is  to  Him  an  object  of  incessant  regard, 
and  for  their  sakes  the  world  should  occupy  no  narrow  room 
in  our  thoughts.  On  their  own  account,  besides ;  for  the  flesh 
clothing  them  which  is  our  flesh  and  the  bone  sustaining  them 
which  is  our  bone;  we  should  have  great  heaviness  and  con- 
tinual sorrow  of  heart  over  their  perishing  condition.  Com- 
paratively, it  is  not  hard  for  us  to  bring  Jesus  into  the  Church, 
which  is  his  '  mother's  house '  as  well  as  ours,  in  whicli  he  de- 
lights to  dwell,  and  into  which,  if  true  to  herself,  she  rejoices 
greatly  to  receive  him.  But  the  world  hates  Christ,  has  noth- 
ing in  common  with  him,  is  aware  that  he  rightfully  claims 
the  dominion,  is  sensitively  jealous  of  the  claim,  and  lives  with 
its  doors  barred  against  him  night  and  day.  No  criminal 
keeps  so  vigilant  a  watch  against  the  officers  of  justice,  no 
lonely  widow  makes  her  gates  so  fast  against  the  midnight 
robber,  no  miser  spurns  so  haughtily  the  beggar  from  his  door, 
as  the  unrenewed  heart  keeps  watch  and  ward  against  the  en- 
trance of  Jesus,  and  scornfully  sends  him  away  when  he  asks 
for  a  lodging  in  the  soul.  To  introduce  Him,  therefore,  into 
this  liome  of  ^our  mother,'  is  a  work  demanding  effort,  watch- 
fulness, patience.  There  is  much  to  provoke  him  to  turn  away; 
we  must  plead  with  him,  hold  him,  and  not  let  him  go;  and 
with  our  mother's  children  we  must  also  plead  with  the  soft 
tongue  that  breaketh  the  bone,  for  they  are  offended  with  us 
as  well  as  with  him.  So  sought  and  prevailed  the  Bride  of 
the  Lamb,  till  she  brought  her  own  Beloved  into  the  midst  of 
her  mother's  children,  by  whom  she  had  been  herself  so  hardly 
entreated  ;  requiting  evil  with  good.  Plast  thou  attempted 
this?  art  thou  engaged  in  the  effort  now?  if  not,  arise  and 
commence  such  a  work  of  faith  and  labor  of  love  on  behalf  of 
the  lost. 

/  charge  you,  0  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  by  the  roes  and  by 
the  hinds  of  the  field,  that  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake  my  love  till 
he  jAcase, — The  same  charge  we  have  considered  already  at  the 


CHAP.  III.  5.  THE    KING    COXDUCTED    HOME.  235 

close  of  the  first  Song;  but  there  is  this  difference,  that  here 
it  conveys  a  solemn  warning  to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
as  they  value  their  own  soul's  salvation,  not  to  disturb  or  offend 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  now  resting  in  the  Church.  For  her  own 
sake,  for  her  fellowship  with  Jesus,  the  Bride  had  desired  that 
none  should  give  him  the  slightest  provocation.  But  now  it 
is  likewise  for  the  sake  of  the  living  in  Jerusalem,  and  the 
dying  in  the  world  ;  for  the  sake  of  her  brethren  and  her  com- 
panions, of  her  mother's  children,  both  according  to  grace  and 
according  to  nature.  There  is  nothing  on  earth  more  im- 
portant than  not  provoking  Christ  to  withdraw  till  he  please, 
when  he  has  once  entered  a  church,  a  community,  a  family,  in 
the  power  of  his  word  and  Spirit.  '  Grieve  not,  then,  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  promise';  let  no  living  daughter  of  Zion,  let  no  in- 
quiring daughter  of  Jerusalem,  disturb  the  Spirit's  dove-like 
rest;  but  let  'fear  come  on  every  soul,  that  great  grace  may  be 
upon  all.'  At  such  a  season  above  all  others,  the  salvation  of 
many  is  trembling  in  the  balance.  Then,  emphatically,  vast 
eternal  issues  hang  on  the  careful  avoiding  of  all  sin,  all  levity, 
all  strife,  all  heedlessness,  of  everything  by  Avhich  Hhe  Spirit 
may  be  grieved'  or  maybe  'quenched.'  All  impatience  must 
then  be  anxiously  watched  against,  lest,  through  want  of  per- 
severance in  the  use  of  means,  the  sowing  of  the  good  seed 
should  cease,  while  the  dew  from  heaven  is  still  falling  plente- 
ously  on  the  parched  ground.  Bride  of  the  Lamb !  seek  to 
find  him  and  'bring  him  into  thy  mother's  house;'  and,  ye 
daughters  of  Jerusalem !  see  that,  when  he  is  come,  ye  'awake 
him  not  until  He  please.' 


236  THE    BRIDAL   PEOCESSION.      CHAP.  III.  6-11. 


XIII. 
THE  BKIDAL  PEOCESSION. 

THE  PILLARS  IN  THE  DESERT— THE  ANGELIC  SWORD- 
MEN— THE  KING'S  CHARIOT— THE  CROWN  OF 
ESPOUSAL. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of  smoke, 
perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense,  with  all  powders  of  the  merchant? 
Behold  his  bed,  which  is  Solomon's;  threescore  valiant  men  are  about  it, 
of  the  valiant  of  Israel.  They  all  hold  swords,  being  expert  in  war:  every 
man  hath  his  sword  upon  his  thigh  because  of  fear  in  the  night.  King 
Solomon  made  himself  a  chariot  of  the  wood  of  Lebanon.  He  made  the 
pillars  thereof  0/ silver,  the  bottom  thereof  0/  gold,  the  covering  of  it  of 
purple,  the  midst  thereof  being  paved  with  love,  for  the  daughters  of  Je- 
rusalem. Go  forth,  O  ye  daughters  of  Zion,  and  behold  king  Solomon 
with  the  crown  wherewith  his  mother  crowned  him  in  the  day  of  his 
espousals,  and  in  the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart. — Chap.  iii.  6-11. 

THE   PILLARS   IN   THE   DESERT. 

]V/io  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of 
smoke,  perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense,  with  all  powders 
of  the  merchants — The  scene  now  opened  is  new;  and  the 
speakers  are  either  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  or  the  friends 
of  the  Bridegroom,  who  are  supposed  to  see  a  travelling  litter  or 
palanquin  approaching  from  the  desert.  Clouds  of  sand  and  dust 
seen  in  the  distance,  and  raised  by  the  tread  of  the  numerous 
bearers  and  royal  guards,  are  conceived  by  some  to  suggest  the 
image  of  columns  of  ascending  smoke.  But  the  speakers  are 
represented,  not  as  spectators  far  remote,  but  within  the  com- 
pass of  the  fragrant  odours  that  perfumed  the  magnificent 
procession.  It  is  therefore  better  to  interpret  the  smoky  pillars 
as  arising  from  the  rich  perfumes  which  were  burned  around 
the  Bridegroom  and  the  Bride,  which  at  once  formed  a  bright 
cloud  before  the  eye,  and  filled  the  air  with  fragrance,  and 
therefore  drew  forth  the  admiring  inquiry — 'Who  is  this  that 


CHAP.  III.  G.       THE    PILLARS    IX    THE    DESERT.  237 

Cometh  up  from  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of  smoke,  perfumed 
with  myrrh  and  frankincense?'  The  reference  is  evident,  to 
the  marching  of  the  Children  of  Israel  through  the  wilderness, 
with  the  pillar  of  cloud  before  them,  an:l  with  the  pillars  of 
smoke  ascending  from  the  altar  of  incense  in  the  sight  of  the 
priests,  and  from  the  altar  of  atonement  in  the  sight  of  all 
Israel. 

The  tabernacle  was  a  remarkable  type  of  the  body  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ;  that  is,  of  the  entire  human  nature,  con- 
sisting of  true  body  and  reasonable  soul,  which  the  Eternal 
Word  took  to  himself.  'The  Word  was  God,  and  the  Word 
was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,'— literally  'tabernacled' 
or  dwelt  as  in  a  tabernacle  among  us,  'full  of  grace  and  truth.' 
'Destroy  this  temple,'  said  Jesus,  'and  I  will  raise  it  up  in 
three  days;'  'but  he  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body.'  The 
tabernacle  and  the  temple  were  substantially  the  same;  for 
the  tabernacle  was  simply  a  movable  temple  in  the  midst  of  a 
pilgrim  people;  and  the  temple,  with  all  its  glory  and  all  its 
solidity,  was  only  a  tabernacle  that  was  soon  to  be  shaken  and 
taken  to  pieces.  The  body  of  Jesus  on  earth  was  'the  true 
tabernacle'  of  the  living  God;  that  body  buried,  risen,  exalted, 
is  the  tabernacle  taken  down,  and  raised  again  as  the  ever- 
lasting temple  of  Jehovah.  The  sight  of  Jesus  'returning  from 
the  wilderness'  awakens  the  inquiry,  'who  is  this  that  cmneth 
up?'  who  or  what  is  this?  for  the  reference  is  to  the  bridal 
chariot.  'Behold  his  bed,'  (or  palanquin,)  is  the  reply.  It  is 
Jesus,  but  not  simply  the  Eternal  Word,  but  the  body  in  which 
that  Word  is  dwelling.  It  is  Jesus,  yet  not  exclusively,  but 
'the  tabernacle  of  his  body,'  containing  likewise  all  his  ran- 
somed ones  as  'members  of  his  body,  of  his  flesh  and  of  his 
bones.'  The  full  meaning  of  the  inquiry  is,  What  and  who  is 
this?  what  is  this  chariot,  and  who  is  in  it  coming  up  from 
the  wilderness?  The  chariot  is  described  afterwards;  its  oc- 
cupants let  us  consider  now,  Jesus  and  the  Church. 

1.  Jesus  'returning  from  the  wilderness,  full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.'  And  well  may  the  question  be  moved,  'Who  is  this 
that  Cometh  from  Edom,  glorious  in  his  apparel'?  and  well 
may  we  weigh  the  answer,  'I  that  speak  in  righteousness, 


238  THE   BRIDAL   PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  6. 

mighty  to  save.  At  the  approach  of  ^the  Priuce  of  peace,  the 
Kiug  coming  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  the  whole  city  was 
moved  saying,  Who  is  this?'  and  blessed  is  the  soul  that  is 
inwardly  moved  to  repeat  the  inquiry,  'Who  is  this?'  Jesus 
has  been  'anointed  by  the  Father  with  the  Holy  Spirit'  in 
exhaustlcss  fulness,  'God  giving  not  the  Spirit  by  measure 
unto  him.'  As  prophet,  priest,  and  king,  he  has  been  'anointed 
with  the  oil  of  gladness  above  his  fellows.'  But  the  consecra- 
tion of  the  high  priest  is  that  which  is  chiefly  described  in  the 
word,  and  his  anointing  oil,  like  to  which  none  other  was  to 
be  compounded  on  pain  of  death — human  art  being  forbid  to 
fashion  it,  because  that  which  it  typified  could  not  be  produced 
by  human  wisdom  or  power.  The  Spirit  is  given  by  measure 
to  Abraham,  to  Moses,  to  Paul;  to  Gabriel  also,  and  to  every 
holy  creature,  only  in  measure.  On  Jesus  our  great  High 
Priest,  the  Spirit  is  shed  immeasurably.  Into  this  'vessel  of 
honor  fit  for  the  Master's  use,'  the  Spirit  is  poured  without 
limit;  abiding  in  himself  in  all  fulness,  and  as  an  exhaustless 
fountain  ever  overflowing  for  his  people;  the  vessel  being 
divinely  fashioned  to  receive  and  retain  and  impart  every  grace 
that  is  in  the  Spirit  of  grace. 

But  while  every  good  and  perfect  gift  that  cometli  down 
from  above  rests  on  the  Sou  of  Man,  these  heavenly  graces 
gather  in  the  wilderness  a  fragrance  which  is  not  elsewhere 
found;  Jesus  himself 'learning  obedience,'  not  in  its  spirit  or 
in  its  principles,  yet  in  its  exercise,  'by  the  things  which  he 
suffered.'  The  sweetest  odours  of  earth  are  gathered,  not  amid 
rich  and  cultured  fields,  but  amongst  the  rocks  and  sands  of 
the  desert;  and  heaven  is  filled  with  sweet  perfumes  gleaned 
in  the  wilderness  of  an  apostate  world.  These  are  'powders 
of  the  merchant/  sweet  spices  from  a  far  country,  which  the 
unfallen  inmates  of  heaven  can  appreciate,  but  which  were 
never  seen  growing  in  the  Paradise  above;  or  rather,  the  plants 
M'hich  contain  the  odorous  gums  are  there,  but  they  cannot 
flow  from  the  unpierced  bark.  Such  are — 'Man  liveth  not  by 
bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God,' — 'Father  forgive 
them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do;'  and  many  kindred 
graces,  or  exercises  of  grace.     Jesus  came  from  the  wilderness 


CHAP.  III.  G.       THE    PILLARS    IX    THE    DESERT.  239 

of  Judea  'perfuraccl  with  mjau'li  and  frankincense,  and  all  the 
powders  of  the  merchant';  and  when  his  work  was  finished, 
he  entered  his  Father's  mansion  above,  'coming-  ii[)  from  tlie 
wilderness'  of  earth  fragrant  with  every  grace  whieli  it  ever 
yielded ;  for  none  knew  like  him  how  to  gather  all  its  myrrh 
and  all  its  spices. 

But  as  perfumes  of  fragrant  oil  anoint  the  garments  of  the 
high  priest,  so  pillars  of  fragrant  smoke  ascend  from  his  hands. 
He  fills  his  hands  with  incense,  every  grain  most  precious,  and 
every  part  beaten  small,  that  the  whole  may  ascend  from  the 
burning  censer.  So  Jesus,  at  once  the  priest  and  the  offering, 
presents  his  own  body  broken  for  us  and  bruised  by  the  Father, 
a  sacrifice  of  a  sweet-smelling  savor  acceptable  unto  God.' 
The  Angel  of  the  Covenant  offers  'much  incense'  which  ascends 
to  God  out  of  his  hands,  like  pillars  of  smoke  from  the  wilder- 
ness arising  to  the  throne  above. 

2.  But  'who  is  this  coming  up  out  of  the  wilderness?'  It 
is  not  Jesus  alone,  but  the  Church  along  with  him ;  it  is  God 
walking  with  Israel  through  the  desert,  but  Israel  also  walking 
with  God,  'going  after  him  in  the  unsown  land.'  It  is  the 
Bride,  the  Lamb's  wife;  and  who  is  this?  a  hundred  voices 
inquire.  Who  is  this  so  weak,  trembling  for  dangers  future, 
unseen,  unreal?  who  is  this  so  foolish,  sacrificing  solid  present 
good  for  a  distant  dream  of  bliss?  Who  is  this  so  sullen  and 
morose,  looking  away  from  the  world  and  its  pleasures;  so 
censorious,  setting  herself  up  for  a  judge  of  men  and  their 
ways ;  so  meddlesome,  taking  charge  of  other  men's  souls  and 
turning  the  world  upside  down?  But  who  is  this?  saitli  the 
discerning  human  eye,  yea  saith  the  Spirit  of  God  himself — who 
is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of  smoke, 
perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense  with  all  powders  of 
the  merchant;  so  beauteous,  so  glorious,  so  pleasant,  so  fragrant? 

Who  is  this  like  pillars  of  smoke,  with  the  pillar  of  cloud 
guiding  by  day  and  the  pillar  of  fire  by  night;  so  guided  in 
the  trackless  wilderness  and  sure  to  reach  the  city  of  habita- 
tion, so  sheltered  from  the  burning  sun,  so  safe  from  the  des- 
troying foe,  so  glorious  through  the  midnight  gloom?  But 
who  is  that,  wandering  through  the  desert  with  no  guiding. 


240  THE    BRIDAL    PROCESSIOX.  CHAP.  Ill,  G. 

guarding,  enlightening  pillar  before  him ;  Avalking  through 
dry  places  seeking  rest,  but  finding  none,  and  not  knowing 
whither  he  goeth?  who  else  is  that,  following  the  pillar  once, 
but  sleeping  now  while  it  advances  onwards  and  leaves  him? 
who  is  that  third  one,  hasting  so  troubled  and  breathless  through 
the  burning  sands,  in  eager  desire  or  in  trembling  fear,  while 
the  pillar  is  standing  still  far  behind  him? 

Who  is  this,  like  pillars  of  smoke,  with  fragrance  ascending 
to  heaven  from  the  altar  of  burnt-offering,  and  the  altar  of 
gold?  who  is  this,  bearing  about  in  the  body  the  dying  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  with  a  sweet  savour  of  his  sacrifice  ever  ascending 
to  the  Father?  who  is  this,  with  a  constant  cloud  of  prayer 
arising  from  the  altar  of  atonement?  and  who  is  this,  with  a 
continual  cloud  of  thanksgiving  from  the  altar  of  incense?  It 
is  the  virgin  Bride  of  the  Lamb.  But  who  art  thou,  with  no 
smoky  pillar  seen  from  the  altar  of  the  closet,  or  the  altar  of 
the  family?  You  reply:  Man  searches  not  the  heart — to  the 
unseen  God  I  may  pray,  unseen  by  man  and  unknown.  Un- 
seen certainly  you  may,  but  never  wholly  unknown.  Let  there 
be  a  fire  lighted  by  the  lonely  widow  within  her  humble  cottage 
in  the  most  retired  wood,  with  neither  husband  nor  child  to 
"witness  the  gathering  of  the  fuel,  or  the  kindling  of  the  flame. 
It  cannot  besjhid ;  for  presently  the  pillar  of  smoke  is  beheld 
afar  ascending  to  the  skies,  and  indicating  life  and  warmth 
within  the  dark  recess  of  the  forest.  And  without  telling  your 
neighbor  of  the  fire  you  are  kindling  on  the  altar  of  your  soul 
or  of  your  household,  the  cloud  of  incense  arising  heavenward 
will  soon  mark  both  you  and  your  dwelling  with  the  sure  sign 
of  heavenly  life  within. 

Who  art  thou,  again,  once  a  burning  and  shining  light,  but 
with  thy  fire  as  if  dead  out  upon  thine  altar  now?  O  quickly 
stir  the  gift  that  is  in  you — quench  not  the  Spirit — strengthen 
what  is  ready  to  die!  Or  who  art  thou,  not  with  pillars  of 
smoke  like  the  true  Bride  of  Jesus,  but  with  only  one;  a  cloud 
from  off  the  altar  of  atonement,  but  none  from  the  altar  of 
incense;  a  constant  column  of  prayer  ascending,  but  no  breath 
of  praise?  But  you  cannot  praise!  Are  you  making  the  at- 
tempt; endeavoring  to  turn  supplication  into  thanksgiving? 


CHAP.  III.  6.       THE    PILLARS    IN    THE    DESERT.  241 

Go  try;  the  fire  that  kindles  coals  will  more  easily  burn 
odours.  Take  the  living  coal  from  the  altar  of  sacrifice — 
put  it  into  the  censer — cast  the  incense  on  it;  and  although 
you  think  it  all  too  cold  to  burn  the  perfume,  you  will  pres- 
ently see  the  cloud  rise  freely  to  heaven ;  and  men  will  ask  of 
thee,  Svho  is  this  now  coming  up  from  the  wilderness  like 
pillars  of  smoke?' 

'Who  is  this  that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  perfumed 
with  myrrh  and  frankincense,  with  all  powders  of  tlie  mer- 
chant'?'— As  for  Jesus  himself,  so,  much  more,  for  the  Bride 
who  has  nothing  good  of  her  own,  the  wilderness  yields  rich 
perfumes  peculiar  to  itself.  The  balm,  the  myrrh,  the  cassia, 
and  the  frankincense  come  not  from  the  plains  of  E.>:ypt,  but 
from  the  mountains  of  Palestine  and  the  sands  of  Arabia. 
Thither  the  merchant  goes  to  purchase  them,  at  the  hands  of  those 
v.dio  have  gathered  them  on  the  spot.  At  great  cost  he  buys 
them,  and  seldom  sells  them  pure,  so  that  when  he  returns  back 
from  the  wilderness  with  his  fragrant  powders  and  gums  un- 
mixed, he  is  laden  with  a  treasure  of  vast  price.  But  thither 
personally  the  Bride  of  the  true  Solomon  goes  to  gather  spices 
for  herself,  and  thence  she  never  returns  without  the  richest 
stores.  You  never  met  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb  coming  out  of 
the  desert  of  trial,  of  desolation,  of  poverty,  without  recognising 
her  at  once  by  the  costly  ointment  bewraying  itself.  She 
needed  not  to  tell  you  where  she  had  been,  for  the  fragrance 
of  which  she  was  herself  unconscious  announced  that  she  had 
just  come  up  from  the  wilderness.  Or  if  the  Bride  is  soon  to 
ascend  to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  how  often  do  all  her  gar- 
ments smell  of  myrrh  and  frankincense,  as  one  taking  a  final 
farewell  of  the  desert! 

The  meek  and  quiet  S2:)irif,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord 
of  great  price,  is  the  product  of  the  desert,  where  no  man  is, 
and  where  Jesus,  Avith  his  name  as  'ointment  outpoured,'  meets 
the  soul  in  its  desolation.  Close  beside  it  grows  the  plant  of 
strong /oifY/i,  of  "precious  faith'  like  Abraham's — which  can 
hope  against  hope,  and  retain  its  savor  though  plunged  in 
many  waters.  Prayer  fills  its  golden  vials  full  of  odours  faster 
iu  the  desert  than  elsewhere,  for  'in  the  day  of  trouble  men 


242  THE   BRIDAL   PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  6. 

call  on  tlie  name  of  tlie  Lord.'  Brotheydy  love  is  a  balm  of  the 
wilderness,  for  'the  Brother  born  for  adversity'  is  near,  and 
'the  holy  oil  flows  from  his  head  to  all  the  skirts  of  his  gar- 
ments.' Saints  who  were  distant  in  the  crowded  city  of  pros- 
perity, draw  close  together  in  the  desert  of  distress;  the  oint- 
ment of 'brotherly  love'  is  fragrant  on  them  all,  and  men  say 
of  them,  'Behold  how  they  love  one  another!'  The  spirit  of 
sclf-sacrifce,  the  noble  and  generous  spirit,  is  oftencr  acquired 
in  the  Avilderness  than  elsewhere;  or  there  at  least  it  attains 
its  richest  ripeness,  and  distils  its  most  fragrant  odours ;  for 
the  'deep  poverty  abounds  to  the  riches  of  liberality;'  and  the 
desolate  widow,  with  prince-like  freeness,  casts  'all  her  living' 
into  Jehovah's  treasury.  Nowhere  except  in  the  wilderness  is 
the  love  of  reproof  acquired,  which  says,  'Let  the  righteous 
smite  me,  and  it  shall  be  an  excellent  oil  on  ray  head ';  for 
that  which  elsewhere  would  only  have  'broken  the  head,'  when 
found  in  the  desert  of  the  chastened  soul  is  borne  away  'as  a 
precious  balm.'  Even  sorrow  itself  is  gathered  there  like  myrrh 
in  drops  of  rarest  value;  and  as  the  aromatic  shrubs  of  the 
desert  weep  their  costly  odours  under  the  heat  of  the  sun,  so 
the  tears  drawn  forth  from  the  desolate  by  fiery  trials  are  kept 
as  precious  drops  in  the  Lord's  own  bottle,  and  preserved  for 
ever  amongst  heaven's  treasures,  as  the  produce  of  choice  ex- 
otics such  as  Paradise  itself  does  not  yield.  Intense  love  for 
Jesus  is  another  of  those  spices;  love  that  bathes  his  feet  with 
tears,  and  counts  no  spikenard  too  costly  to  anoint  them — love 
that  seeth  not  yet  believeth,  and  loveth  much  the  Beloved 
unseen.  Finally,  the  'good  name  that  is  better  than  precious 
ointment,'  which  often  loses  its  sweetness  in  the  harvest-field 
of  prosperity,  usually  acquires  its  fragrance  in  the  desert  and 
in  the  time  of  trial;  and  is  never  more  fresh  and  rich  with 
attractive  odours  than  when  men  first  ask,  'Who  is  this  that 
conieth  out  of  the  wilderness  perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frank- 


incense 


9' 


But  who  is  that  virgin  coming  to  meet  the  King,  with  rai- 
ment rank  with  the  garlic  and  onions  of  Egypt?  Is  that  a 
fitting  bride  for  the  Lamb,  arrayed  with  the  selfishness,  the 
pride,  the  covetousness,  the  vain-glory,  the  sordidnebs  of  earth; 


CHAP.  III.  7,  8.      THE   AXGELIC   SWORDMEX.  243 

bearino:  iincrucified  and  unmortified  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the 
lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life;  full  of  the  spirit  of  the 
world  which  is  odious  to  Jesus;  adorned  with  what  is  highly 
esteemed  among  men,  but  is  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God? 
Or  who  else  is  that,  not  bringing  Egypt  in  its  grossness,  the 
world  with  all  its  ill  savor,  into  the  presence  and  the  marriage 
feast  of  the  King,  but  with  a  dead  fly  marring  all  the  ointment? 
The  ointment  truly  is  the  growth  of  the  desert,  pure  and  fra- 
grant, but  whence  came  the  dead  fly  that  so  spoils  it  all,  and 
turns  it  into  an  offense?  Not  from  the  wilderness,  but 
from  Egypt.  Ah!  child  of  God,  heir  of  heaven,  bride  of  the 
great  King,  why  preserve  the  dead  fly  as  if  it  were  some 
precious  relic  to  be  embalmed?  you  cannot  carry  it  through 
heaven's  gates,  and  why  so  cherish  it  here?  Oh!  search  it 
out  and  cast  it  away,  though  it  be  like  cutting  your  right  hand 
off"  and  plucking  your  right  eye  out !  Even  if,  in  order  to 
detect  it,  you  must  break  the  alabaster  box,  find  it  out  and 
cast  it  forth,  that  your  ointment  may  be  fit  to  pour  upon  the 
blessed  feet  of  the  Lord ! 

THE  ANGELIC  SWORDilEN. 

Behold  his  bed,  ivhich  is  Solomon's;  threescore  valiant  men  are 
about  it,  of  the  valiant  of  Israel.  They  all  hold  sivoi^ds,  being 
expert  in  icar;  every  man  hath  his  sicord  upon  his  thigh  because 
of  fear  in  the  night. — What  is  liere  termed  by  our  translators  a 
bed,  is  a  litter  or  palanquin,  and  is  afterwards  called  a  chariot 
in  the  ninth  verse;  where  it  is  so  fully  described  that  we  need 
not  consider  it  now,  but  pass  on  at  once  to  the  guardian  at- 
tendants. These  attendants,  though  not  the  most  important, 
belong  to  the  most  magnificent  part  of  the  procession,  and  are 
first  described.  They  consist  of  sixty  chosen  warriors,  selected 
for  their  courage  and  martial  skill  out  of  all  Israel,  holding 
swords  or  holders  of  swords,  and  practised  in  the  use  of  them  j 
for  their  swords  are  not  now  grasped  in  the  hand,  but  girded 
and  ready  on  the  thigh.  They  accompany  the  bridal  progress, 
})ecause  the  Arabs  of  the  desert  were  always  lying  in  wait  for 
travellers,  and  a  marriage  party  was  a  j)rized  and  tempting 
object  for  assault.     The  number  is  supposed  by  some  to  have 


244  THE    BRIDAL    PROCESSION.         CHAP  III.  7,  8. 

reference  to  David's  guard,  whicli  they  reckon  as  consisting 
of  thirty  exclusive  of  the  chief  leaders,  and  whicli  they  suppose 
to  be  doubled  here  for  the  more  ample  security.  -  But  the 
evident  reference  to  the  tabernacle  throws  greater  light  upon 
it;  for  although  the  number  of  sixty  may  be  arbitrary  and 
without  special  meaning,  it  seems  probable  that  there  is  an 
allusion  to  the  six  hundred  thousand  footmen  able  for  war 
that  guarded  the  tent  of  the  Lord.  These  sixty  are  represented 
as  chosen  out  *of  the  valiant  of  Israel,'  one  out  of  each  ten 
thousand  of  the  host  aptly  representing  the  whole  (Wycliife). 

Passing  from  the  temporary  to  the  true  tabernacle  not  made 
with  hands,  we  have  'Jesus  coming  up  from  the  wilderness,' 
and  'angels  ministering  to  him.'  By  the  numbers,  again,  there 
may  be  nothing  special  designed;  yet  it  is  not  unworthy  of 
remark,  that  in  speaking  of  the  angels  appointed  to  attend 
him,  Christ  alludes  to  a  number  intermediate  between  these 
two,  when  he  names  twelve  legions  of  angels.  The  reference 
might  be  simply  to  the  disciples,  and  signify  only  that  instead 
of  twelve  weak  apostles,  his  Father  was  ready  to  surround  him 
with  twelve  legions  of  angels ;  yet  a  full  legion  consisted  of 
five  thousand,  and  twelve  legions  therefore  of  sixty  thousand, 
and  one  in  a  thousand  of  these  would  be  sixty  chosen  ones 
round  the  chariot  of  the  King.  That  angels  should  be  de- 
scribed as  men  in  a  figurative  song  cannot  be  strange,  since 
they  are  so  designated  throughout  all  the  Scriptures.  The  three 
angels  that  ap2)ear  to  Abraham  at  Mamre  are  '  three  men ' — 
the  angel  that  meets  Joshua  at  Jericho  is  'a  man' — the  'very 
terrible'  one  whom  Manoah's  wife  saw  is  called  by  her  'a  man 
of  God' — the  angels  of  the  sepulchre  are  'two  men  in  shining 
garments,'  and  'a  young  man  clothed  in  a  long  white  garment.' 
In  like  manner  they  are  represented  as  'expert  in  war,'  for 
they  are  '  the  host  of  the  Lord ;'  and  carrying  swords,  as  '  the 
Captain  of  the  Lord's  host'  ajjpeared  to  Joshua  with  a  drawn 
sword  in  his  hand,  and  the  angel  of  the  Lord  to  David  with 
his  sword  drawn  over  Jerusalem.  In  the  forty-fifth  Psalm 
also,  the  Bridegroom  himself,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  has  his 
sword  girt  upon  his  thigh.     Let  us  now  note — 

1.  That  from  his  birth  till  his  death,  or  rather  from  his 


CHAP.  III.  7,  8.      THE   ANGELIC   SWOEDMEN.  245 

conception  in  the  womb  till  his  ascension  to  the  Father's  right 
hand,  Jesus  wafe  attended  by  angelic  watchmen— soldiers  of 
the  God  of  armies.  The  choir  that  celebrates  his  birth  with 
song  consists  of  'a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising 
God;'  'the  heavens  are  opened  and  angels  ascend  and  descend 
upon  the  Son  of  Man';  ^he  angels  'bear  him  up  in  their  hands' 
as  the  Levites  bore  the  ark  of  old;  and  as  they  waited  for  him 
at  the  gates  of  earth  when  he  came  down,  so  when  he  returns 
they  attend  him  to  the  gates  of  heaven,  as  represented  by  the 
'two  men  in  white  apparel'  who  announce  his  second  advent. 
Specially,  these  angels  watch  'because  of  fear  in  the  night;' 
for,  not  only  when  Jesus  returns  from  the  desert  do  they  attend 
him,  but  when  he  is  in  the  wilderness  tempted  of  the  devil, 
and  with  the  wild  beasts,  'the  angels  minister  unto  him.' 
Satan  knows  it  so  well  and  feels  it  so  keenly,  that  when  he 
cannot  gainsay  it,  he  seeks  to  turn  the  very  notoriousness  of 
the  fact  into  a  temptation ;  and,  unable  either  to  seduce  or  to 
overcome  those  valiant  ones,  he  invites  Jesus  from  the  turret 
of  the  temple  to  cast  himself  into  their  attending  hands.  As 
at  his  first  temptation  in  the  wilderness,  so  also  at  the  last  in 
Gethsemane,  those  watchmen  of  the  night  are  at  hand,  and  in 
that  hour  of  darkness  'there  appears  an  angel  strengthening 
him.' 

The  hostes  of  heaven  were  moved  with  his  moan, 
Whilst  he  with  tears  his  Father's  grace  implores, 
And  every  period  was  a  bitter  groan. 
Even  thus  the  Son  of  God  his  Lord  adores, 

Father,  if  thou  wilt  now  remove  from  me 

This  cup— if  not,  thy  will  fulfilled  be! 

Herewith  the  imperial  gates  of  heaven  began 
To  open  wide,  and  from  the  brightsome  throne 
Of  Him  who  ruled  the  world  and  fashion'd  man, 
An  angel  bright  with  waving  wings  is  gone, 
And  there  alights,  whereas  the  God  of  light 
Lay  quite  dismayed,  and  robb'd  of  all  delight. — Anon. 

'Behold  his  bed  which  is  Solomon's,'  is  substantially  the 
announcement  of  the  angels  that  watch  the  tomb  of  Jesus. 
Around  that  bed  of  Solomon  the  Prince  of  Peace,  the  valiant 


246  THE   BRIDAL   PROCESSION.        CHAR.  Ill,  1,  8. 

of  Israel  watch,  and  a  young  man  clothed  in  white  invites — 
'Come  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay;'  the  night-clothes 
laid  orderly  aside,  the  linens  by  themselves,  and  the  napkin 
that  bound  his  temples  wrapped  together  by  itself.  '  Behold 
the  place  where  they  laid  him' — 'behold  his  bed.'  But  why  keep 
watch  beside  the  bed,  when  he  who  sfept  in  it  has  risen,  and 
is  not  there? — 'because  of  fear  in  the  night.'  The  hour  and 
the  power  of  darkness  is  only  passing  away,  and  he  who  sought 
to  destroy  as  a  murderer,  now  strives  as  a  liar  to  conceal  his 
defeat,  and  to  say  'his  disciples  stole  him  away.'  Satan  who 
'disputed  about  the  body  of  Moses'  the  lawgiver,  has  much 
more  keenly  disputed  about  the  body  of  Jesus  the  Saviour; 
and  the  angels  that  excel  in  strength  keep  guard  around  that 
bed,  that  these  clothes  be  not  disturbed  by  the  prince  of  dark- 
ness, till  earthly  witnesses  have  come  to  see  and  testify  that 
he  was  not  snatched  away  by  the  hands  of  midnight  robbers, 
but  rose  as  one  who  had  taken  his  rest  and  awoke  with  the  first 
dawning  of  the  morn.     But — 

2.  As  it  was  with  the  Lord  Jesus,  so  it  is  with  his  followers; 
the  angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  on  the  Son  of 
Man,  and  'sent  forth  as  ministering  spirits  to  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation.' In  the  hour  when  we  'come  to  the  blood  or  sprink- 
ling,' we  'come  also  to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels,' 
and  our  worship  mingles  with  theirs  before  the  great  white 
throne.  If  they  rejoice  over  the  birth  of  Jesus  in  Bethlehem, 
they  rejoice  again  over  every  soul  in  which  'Christ  is  formed 
the  hope  of  glory,'  over  every  child  that  is  born  in  Zion,  over 
every  lost  one  found,  every  dead  one  raised  ;  for  'there  is  joy 
in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
penteth.'  If  they  are  present  at  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  from 
the  dead  and  at  his  ascension  into  heaven,  so  are  they  at  the 
departure  of  every  one  of  his  redeemed,  and  'Lazarus  is  carried 
by  the  angels  into  Abraham's  bosom.'  And  as  at  the  first  and 
the  last,  so  throughout  the  intervening  stages  of  the  pilgrim- 
age 'they  minister  to  the  heirs  of  salvation.' 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  both  the  righteous  and  the  wicked 
have  much  to  do  with  the  angelic  hosts  that  belong  to  the 
opposite  camps:  and  that  'angels  of  darkness  are  employed  by 


CHAP.  III.  7,  8.      THE    AXGELIC   SWOEDMEN.  247 

God  to  try  good  men,  and  angels  of  light  to  punish  bad  men,' 
Yet  the  slaying  of  Egypt's  first-born  on  the  passover  night, 
the  smiting  of  the  gorgeous  Herod  with  worms,  the  destruc- 
tion of  Sennacherib's  host  before  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  and 
the  binding  of  all  the  tares  into  bundles  for  the  final  fire  of 
the  Lord,  are  not  the  only  works  of  those  messengers  of  his 
that  do  his  will.  Over  each  of  the  Lord's  ransomed  ones  'he 
gives  his  angels  charge  lest  they  dash  their  foot  against  a  stone'; 
and  to  their  appointed  interposition,  doubtless,  we  owe  many 
of  the  providential  aids  which  we  are  daily  enjoying,  known 
and  unknown.  'The  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round 
about  them  that  fear  him,  and  delivereth  them.'  Jacob,  trem- 
bling at  the  thought  of  meeting  his  injured  and  enraged  brother, 
finds  God's  host  at  Mahanaim ;  God  sends  his  angel  into  the 
lions'  den,  and  stops  their  mouths  for  his  servant  Daniel ;  an 
angel  of  the  Lord  breaks  Peter's  chains,  and  guides  him  through 
the  opening  prison-doors  into  the  known  streets  of  the  city; 
and  God,  whose  he  is  and  whom  he  serves,  sends  his  angel  to 
Paul  when  driven  before  the  tempestuous  Euroclydon.  The 
great  day  alone  will  declare  what  deliverances  those  girded 
swordmen  of  the  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host  have  wrought  for 
each  of  his  little  ones,  in  their  journey  through  the  wilderness. 
The  Arab  of  the  desert  watched  of  old,  for  a  bridal  party  as  a 
noble  spoil  for  the  robber,  and  the  torches  that  lighted  their 
way  by  night  quickly  attracted  his  sleepless  eye.  Now  the 
bridal  procession  of  torch-bearing  virgins,  that  go  forth  through 
this  world's  darkness  to  meet  the  great  Bridegroom,  is  the 
special  object  of  manifold  assault  from  him  who  goeth  about  as 
a  roaring  lion,  and  the  morning  alone  will  reveal  what  they 
have  owed  to  angelic  protection  through  night.  Yet  their 
ministry  is  not  confined  to  such  as  are  already  called  to  the 
adoption  of  sons,  but  extends  to  all  who  shall  be  'heirs  of  sal- 
vation' though  still  in  a  state  of  rebellion — rendering  their 
conversion  cause  of  greater  joy  in  heaven: — 

And  is  there  care  in  heaven,  and  is  there  love 
In  heavenly  spirits  to  these  creatures  base, 
That  may  compassion  of  their  evils  move? 
There  is,  else  much  more  wretched  were  the  race 


248  THE   BRIDAL    PROCESSION.        CHAP.  III.  7,  8. 

Of  men  than  beasts.     But  O  the  exceeding  grace 
Of  highest  God,  that  loves  his  creatures  so, 
And  all  his  works  Avith  mercy  doth  embrace, 
That  blessed  angels  he  sends  to  and  fro, 
To  serve  us  wicked  men,  to  serve  his  wicked  foe ! 

How  oft  do  they  their  silver  bowers  leave, 
To  come  to  succour  us  that  succour  want! 
How  oft  do  they  with  golden  pinions  cleave 
The  flitting  skies,  like  flying  pursuivant, 
Against  foul  fiends  to  aid  us  militant ! 
They  for  us  fight,  they  watch  and  duly  ward, 
And  their  bright  squadrons  round  about  us  plant; 
And  all  for  love  and  nothing  for  reward. 
Oh,  why  should  Heavenly  God  to  man  have  such  regard! 

Spenser.. 

To  the  spirit  of  man  asleep  all  spirit  is  locked  in  sleep,  not 
because  other  spirits  slumber,  but  because  his  own  is  dead,  and 
to  the  dead  all  the  living  are  dead.  Awaking  out  of  the  sleep 
of  death,  he  is  driven  to  God;  he  is  awake  to  the  Great  Spirit, 
and  to  it  alone  and  to  the  spirit  within  his  own  breast.  '  God 
is  a  Spirit'  is  full  of  meaning  to  him  now;  and  he  asks,  'whither 
shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit,  or  flee  from  thy  presence?'  The 
Second  Man  is  a  quickening  spirit  to  his  soul,  the  words  that 
he  speaks  are  'spirit  gnd  life,'  and  'the  life  he  now  lives  in 
the  flesh  he  lives  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God.'  Gradually 
as  his  own  inward  eye  opens,  the  space  that  was  once  all  void 
and  empty,  and  that  has  been  filled  with  the  living  God  and 
his  Christ,  becomes  peopled  also  wnth  other  spirits.  He  fights 
at  first  'with  flesh  and  blood'  only,  in  striving  against  his  own 
sins ;  but  he  now  learns  that  he  must  contend  also  with  living 
beings  in  whom  sin  is  embodied  ;  and  'wrestling  with  princi- 
palities and  powers,  and  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world,'  he  is  'no  longer  ignorant  of  Satan  and  his  devices.' 
He  has  had  to  do  with  the  providence  of  Him  'without  whom 
a  sparrow  falleth  not  to  the  ground,'  and  under  him  with  the 
sea,  and  the  dry  land,  and  the  various  visible  works  of  his  hand, 
animate  and  inanimate.  But  he  now  knows  that  there  are 
other  and  spiritual  elements  to  be  taken  into  the  account,  and 
that  when  he  sought  to  serve  God  'once  and  aaain  Satan  hin- 


on  A  p.  III.  7,  8.       THE    ANGELIC   SWORDMEN.  249 

dercd/ — 'the  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air'  thwarting  the 
design.  As  his  eye  opens  wider  he  advances  one  step  more, 
and  becomes  alive  to  another  army  of  spiritual  powers  in  the 
hosts  of  light.  In  deadly  contest  with  the  haughty  'accuser 
of  the  brethren/  he  has  already  shouted — 'Rejoice  not  against 
me  O  mine  enemy!  when  I  fall  I  shall  rise  again';  and  now, 
when  his  soul  is  too  full  to  utter  all  God's  praise  for  himself, 
he  dares  to  adopt  as  his  own  the  v/ords  of  David,  and  to  call 
upon  the  heavenly  guards  that  surround  him,  'Bless  the  Lord, 
ye  his  angels  that  excel  in  strength !' 

Such  angel  visits  are  few,  indeed,  and  far  between :  such  even 
to  the  spiritual  mind  they  have  ever  been  and  will  always  be, 
and  our  Lord  has  forbid  us  to  intrude  by  voluntary  humility 
into  things  which  we  have  not  seen.  But  few  even  of  the 
'hundred  and  forty-four  thousand'  virgins,  that  are  thus 
guarded  through  the  desert  by  these  swordmen  expert  in  war, 
venture  so  far  as  the  Word  of  the  Lord  would  safely  lead 
them.  The  world  and  the  Church  are  in  too  "-reat  haste  in 
these  days  to  afford  time  for  such  meditations ;  yet  we  cannot 
but  admire  the  deed  of  an  eminent  servant  of  God  in  another 
land  and  in  a  former  age,  who,  feeling  that  he  had  too  much 
neglected  this  important  part  of  revelation,  set  apart  a  day  for 
the  practical  consideration  of  the  ministry  of  angels.  Unbe- 
lief renders  men  blind  to  what  is  moving  round  about  them, 
and  they  count  as  if  it  had  no  existence;  and  unbelief  in  any 
portion  of  God's  word  makes  the  believer  himself  blind  to  that 
extent,  and  he  loses  the  benefit  of  that  revelation.  Yet  if  anv 
man  have,  through  grace,  some  discovery  of  this  ministry  of 
angels — of  this  company  of  valiant  ones — expert  in  war  and 
excelling  in  strength,  that  surround  Solomon's  chariot — he 
will  be  oft  reminded  that  he  must  not  'cast  that  which  is  holy 
to  the  dogs,'  and  will  hear  the  warning  words— 'hast  thou 
faith?  have  it  to  thyself  before  God.' 

But  take  heed  that  you  say  not  in  your  heart,  what  have  I 
to  do  with  angel  and  archangel,  with  cherubim  and  seraphim? 
If  you  have  nought  to  do  with  them  in  their  rejoicing  over 
your  recovery,  in  their  ministering  to  your  w'ants  as  an  heir 
of  salvation,  in  their  carrying  of  your  soul  into  Abraham's  bo- 


250  THE   BRIDAL   PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  9. 

som,  you  shall  assuredly  have  to  do  with  them,  as  the  swift 
messengers  and  stern  executioners  of  their  Lord's  behest. 
When  the  harvest  of  your  visitation  is  past  and  your  summer 
of  opportunity  ended,  and  you  are  not  saved,  then  cometh  that 
harvest  which  is  the  end  of  the  world,  whose  reapers  are  the 
angels;  and  when  they  ^ sever  the  wicked  from  the  just,'  they 
shall  'gather  you,  with  all  things  that  offend,  out  of  the  king- 
dom, and  shall  cast  you  into  the  quenchless  fire  where  there 
is  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.' 


THE  king's  chariot. 

King  Solomon  made  himself  a  chariot — not  a  wheeled  carriage, 
as  we  commonly  apply  the  term,  bui  a  litter  or  palanquin  borne 
on  men's  shoulders,  as  the  ark  was  carried  by  theLevites;  or 
as  in  some  of  our  older  Bibles  'a  dialer,'  that  is,  a  chair  of 
state,  provided  for  the  safe  and  honored  progress  of  the  King 
and  his  Bride.  It  is  the  King's  own  workmanship — 'King 
Solomon  made  for  himself  a  chariot,'  of  his  own  design,  under 
his  own  eye,  and  the  work  of  his  own  hands.  It  was  the  work 
of  the  true  Solomon  in  all  his  wisdom;  the  work  in  which  'he 
ha\;h  abounded  in  all  wisdom  and  prudence.'  It  is  Christ  the 
wisdom  of  God,  devising  the  means  of  conveying  lost  souls 
from  the  wilderness  of  sin  and  death  safe  into  the  paradise 
above.  For  this  he  became  'the  Father's  servant  whom  he 
upheld';  for  this  it  was  'his  meat  and  his  drink  to  finish  the 
work  his  Father  gave  him  to  do';  for  this  he  'gave  not  sleep 
to  his  eyes  nor  slumber  to  his  eyelids  till  he  provided  a  place 
for  the  Lord,  an  habitation  for  the  mighty  God  of  Jacob,'  Avhere 
he  might  dwell  with  his  people,  and  might  '  walk  together  with 
them  being  agreed.'  jVay,  for  this  he  'sanctified  himself,'  gave 
himself  as  a  dedicated  offering  to  God,  gave  his  own  'prepared 
body'  full  of  all  the  treasures  of  grace,  'as  the  temple  which 
he  was  to  rear  in  three  days  for  the  habitation  together  of  God 
and  his  people  by  the  Spirit' — as  the  tabernacle  in  which  the 
Lord  was  to  walk  and  journey  with  Israel  through  the  desert. 
For  this  also  'he  despised  the  shame,'  and  while  engaged  in 


CHAP.  III.  10.  THE   king's   CHARIOT.  251 

making  for  himself  this  chariot  of  the  wood  of  Lebanon,  'he 
answered  not  again  when  they  reviled  him'  as  fit  only  to  fashion 
earthly  tents,  and  asked  in  derision,  '  Is  not  this  the  son  of  the 
carpenter?' 

Of  the  wood  of  Lebanon  He  made  this  chariot,  of  its  fragrant 
and  durable  cedar,  of  the  choicest  wood  which  the  noblest  of 
forests  afforded.  The  tabernacle  was  of  shittim  wood,  the 
temple  and  this  chariot  of  cedar;  tabernacle,  temple,  chariot, 
alike  represent  the  wondrous  person  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ; 
and  the  materials  that  compose  it  are  derived  from  earth  as  well 
as  from  heaven,  from  wood  as  well  as  from  gold — 'Forasmuch 
as  the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  Christ  also 
himself  likewise  took  part  of  the  same.'  He  became  flesh  and 
blood,  yet  without  sin ;  produce  of  earth,  but  the  noblest  of 
earth's  productions ;  the  chariot  made  of  wood,  yet  not  from 
the  sycamore  of  the  plain,  but  from  the  cedar  of  Lebanon. 
The  Son  of  Man  is  '  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men,'  '  holy,  harm- 
less, undefiled,  and  separated  from  sinners';  the  cedar  is  fra- 
grant and  incorruptibl-e — the  body  of  Jesus  'seeing  no  corrup- 
tion'— the  body  of  Jesus  a  fragrant  offering  to  the  Father. 

He  made  the  pillars  thereof  of  silver. — Silver-socketed  pillars 
in  the  tabernacle  supported  the  veil  that  enclosed  the  holy  of 
holies  containing  the  ark  of  the  covenant ;  and  the  tabernacle 
and  the  ark  were  types  of  '  the  Word  made  flesh.'  Pillars  of 
solid  silver  sustain  the  canopy  and  curtains  of  this  bridal 
chariot.  A  pillar  is  the  emblem  of  strength — silver  the  sym- 
bol of  purity ;  when  David  would  represent  most  perfect  purity, 
he  selects  for  its  image  'silver  tried  in  a  furnace  of  earth,  puri- 
fied seven  times;'  and  when  most  solid  strength  is  set  forth, 
it  is  under  the  figure  of 'the  pillars  of  the  earth.' 

Every  pillar  that  sustains  the  tabernacle  of  the  body  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  and  the  dwelling-place  of  his  people,  is  of  pure 
silver,  and  in  its  perfect  purity  is  everlasting  strength.  The 
word  of  God  is  compared  to  silver — 'the  words  of  the  Lord 
are  pure  words,  as  tried  silver ;'  the  word  of  God  is  compared 
to  pillars — 'he  upholdeth  all  things  by  the  word  of  his  power.' 
Xow  the  silver  pillars  of  Jehovah's  words  are  the  strong  and 
pure  supports  of  the  tabernacle  of  Christ's  body,  which  is  the 


252  THE    BRIDAL.   PEOCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  10. 

prepared  dwelling  of  the  Spirit  and  the  Church;  'the  words 
thou  gavest  me — the  promise  of  eternal  life  before  the  world 
began — the  everlasting  covenant  well  ordered  in  all  things 
and  sure.'     Well  may  the  Bride  of  Christ  rejoice  to  be  carried 
through  the  wilderness  in  this  chariot  of  salvation  with  its 
silver  pillars,  for  it  will  abide  for  ever  in  its  strength  ;  and  if 
cast  into  the  fire  it  can  lose  nothing,  for  its  silver  contains  no 
dross.     'Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  the  word  of 
the  Lord  abideth  for  ever';  the  pillars  of  the  earth  shall  be 
shaken  and  give  way,  but  the  pillars  of  this  chariot  abide  firm 
and  pure  as  God's  everlasting  words.     In  these  silver  pillars, 
promises  exceeding  great  are  yours,  O  believer!  stronger  than 
heaven  and  earth  ;  and  promises  exceeding  precious  are  yours, 
purer  than  silver  seven  times  refined.     Therefore,  like  the  man 
after  God's  own  heart,  you  may  love  them;  therefore  you  may 
sit  securely  beneath  them,  fearing  nothing,  for  they  will  never 
give  way.     Once  and  again  in  your  journeying  through  the 
wilderness,  when  you  have  seen  the  earth  tremble  and  the 
mountains  cast  into  the  midst  of  the  sea,  you  have  looked 
around  at  the  unmoved  pavilion  of  the  Lord  in  which  he  so- 
journed with  you,  and  have  exclaimed,  'he  made  the  pillars 
thereof  of  silver;'  and  when  within  it  you  shall  have  been  con- 
veyed safe  to  your  Father's  house  above,  and  shall  behold  the 
heavens  rolled  up  like  a  scroll,  and  the  earth  melting  with 
fervent  heat,  and  this  pavilion  abiding  'the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  for  ever,'  you  will  raise  your  shout  of  victory  and 
your  song  of  praise,  saying, — 'King  Solomon  made  himself  a 
chariot  of  the  wood  of  Lebanon,  the  pillars  thereof  he  made  of 
silver.' 

The  bottom  thereof  of  gold. — It  is  the  seat  of  the  chariot  that 
conveys  the  Great  King  ; 

There  silver  pillars,  beauteous  to  behold, 

Spring  from  a  basis  all  of  burnished  gold. — Francis. 

It  is  the  golden  mercy-seat  on  which  Jehovah  sat  in  his  journey- 
ing through  the  wilderness  with  Israel;  'sitting  between  the 
Cherubim,'  as  the  King  here  sits  surrounded  by  faithful  guards 


CHAP.  III.  10.  THE    king's    CHARIOT.  253 

Gold  was  the  most  precious  material  of  the  ark ;  and  if  the 
fragrant  wood  represents  the  holy  human  nature  of  Jesus,  the 
gold  aptly  typifies  the  divine.  The  frame  of  the  ark  was  wood, 
the  top  forming  the  mercy-seat  was  gold ;  the  whole  consti- 
tuted one  ark,  with  the  tables  of  the  law  and  the  hidden  manna 
within  it;  yet  the  gold  covered  the  law  above,  while  the  wood 
was  around  and  beneath  it.  The  Godhead  and  the  Manhood 
constitute  one  Christ;  the  Godhead  in  itself  above  the  law, 
the  manhood  beneath  it,  but  one  Christ  with  the  law  within 
his  heart.  The  manhood — the  wood — unites  Jesus  to  us;  the 
Godhead — the  gold — unites  him  to  the  Father ;  and  upon  the 
golden  summit  of  the  ark  Jehovah  rests,  the  Godhead  of  the 
Father  meeting  the  Godhead  of  the  Son.  The  golden  mercy- 
seat  is  ^sprinkled  with  blood,'  that  the  God  of  justice  may 
righteously  make  it  his  throne;  and  sprinkled  with  his  own 
blood  is  the  whole  person  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

This  golden  throne  of  the  King  of  kiiigs  does  not  exclude 
the  Church.  Lowly,  indeed,  must  she  stoop  before  the  blood- 
sprinkled  mercy-seat,  and  pray — 'God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sin- 
ner!' But  if  she  is  to  be  borne  through  the  wilderness  at  all, 
the  whole  Godhead  as  well  as  the  whole  manhood  of  Jesus 
must  sustain  her,  and  convey  her  safe  to  her  heavenly  rest. 
'Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give  you  rest,'  is  inviting  not  merely 
to  the  man  but  to  the  Christ  of  God,  nor  on  the  manhood  only 
to  rest,  but  on  the  whole  divine  person  of  Jesus — 'cast  thy  bur- 
den on  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee.'  The  Father  in 
mercy  descends  to  the  sprinkling  of  the  blood  of  the  covenant, 
and  rests  there — '  God  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world';  to  that 
blood  of  sprinkling,  also,  the  Church  comes,  ascending  thither 
through  grace  and  reposing  there — 'reconciled  to  God;'  and 
in  the  end  '  Christ  will  give  to  him  that  overcomes  to  sit  down 
A\ith  him  on  his  throne,  even  as  He  has  overcome  and  has  sat 
down  with  the  Father  on  his  throne' 

The  covering  of  it  of  purple.— Th.^  curtains  or  hangings  of 
this  travelling  couch  are  of  purple,  the  emblem  of  royalty,  and 
the  image  likewise  of  blood.  The  reference  is  to  the  veil  of 
blue  and  scarlet  and  purple  that  enclosed  the  holiest  of  all, 
which  is  called,  in  the  very  expression  of  this  verse,  'the  cover- 


254  THE   BRIDAL    PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  10. 

ing  veil,  and  was  spread  over  the  ark  for  a  covering  when  the 
Levites  bore  it  on  their  shoulders.  There  may  be  allusion 
also  to  the  rams'  skins  dyed  red,  and  other  coverings  of  the 
tabernacle.  Purple  of  old  was  not  so  distinguished  from  its 
kindred  colours  as  with  us,  but  included  a  diversity  of  hues; 
of  which  no  further  proof  is  required  than  the  fact  that  the 
robe  with  which  the  soldiers  clothed  Christ  is  called  both  a 
'purple  robe'  and  a  'scarlet  robe.' 

It  is  fit  that  the  Bride  of  Jesus  should  ever  have  before  her 
eyes  her  rank  and  privilege,  remembering  that  she  is  daughter 
of  the  Great  King,  and  the  royal  consort  of  the  King's  Son. 
This  elates  you  not,  Bride  of  the  Lamb !  but  humbles  you,  be- 
cause you  are  unworthy  of  so  high  a  calling.  Nothing  hum- 
bles so  ( iFectually  as  to  receive  honor  and  privileges  of  which 
you  are  consciously  unworthy,  and  to  which  you  are  manifestly 
unequal.  Men  are  proud,  and  will  not  come  down  to  their 
place  in  the  dust  as  sinners ;  men  are  proud,  and  will  not  ac- 
cept of  grace  and  honor  to  which  they  have  no  title.  The 
humbled  sinner  is  'less  than  the  least  of  all  God's  mercies';  yet 
he  cannot  refuse  the  greatest,  because  there  is  no  measuring  ol 
merit.  It  is  of  divine  will  and  of  divine  gift,  and  therefore 
the  child  says — '  Even  so  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy 
sight.'  The  'high  calling'  humbles  its  recipient  in  the  dust, 
and  beneath  that  royal  purple  is  ever  found  the  meekest  and 
lowliest  of  all  the  children  of  men. 

It  is  meet  that  the  emblem  of  royalty  should  be  seen  by 
others,  as  well  as  by  the  Bride  herself;  that  the  royal  purple 
should  be  borne  aloft  and  seen  afar.  It  is  a  suspicious  sign 
of  any  man  when  he  puts  on  a  garb  of  disguise,  however  lowly 
that  garb  may  be;  for  it  &eems  as  if  he  meant  to  act  a  part 
unworthy  of  himself,  and  desiring  therefore  not  to  be  known. 
Xor  is  there  anything  more  injurious,  than  when  the  consort 
of  the  King  is  ashamed  to  own  the  purple ;  to  confess  the  high 
calling.  Many  think  and  call  it  humility;  but  it  is  because 
they  secretly  desire  not  to  walk  worthy  of  their  vocation,  not 
to  be  bound  to  a  conversation  conformable  to  their  rank,  or 
else  not  to  own  the  red  cross  which  always  pertains  to  the 
purple  robe.     It  is  true,  indeed,  that  the  follower  of  the  Lamb, 


CHAP.  III.  10.  THE  king's  chariot.  255 

by  his  maDV  sins,  dishonors  his  Lord  and  liis  vocation;  but 
the  greatest  dishonor  he  can  put  on  either  is  denial.     The 
bloody  right  ear  of  the  midnight  assailant  is  clear  testimony 
to  Peter's  unworthiuess  to  form  part  of  the  bridal  company 
that  follows  the  lowly  Jesus ;  yet  the  wound  in  the  conscience 
of  Peter  and  the  wound  in  the  ear  of  Malchus  are  alike  quickly 
healed.     But,  Bride-elect  of  Jesus !  how  sadly  altered  the  case, 
and  how  sadly  fallen  thy  state,  when  thou  dost  deny  that  thou 
wast  in  the  garden  with  him,  that  thou  didst  recline  upon  the 
same  royal  couch  along  with  him  at  supper,  and  that  the  kingly 
purple  on  account  of  which  they  are  condemning  him  waved 
also  over  thee!     O  deny  not  thy  calling,  thy  kingdom,  or  thy 
King !    Be  not  a  hypocrite  pretending  to  a  rank  that  was  never 
thine;  but,  hearing  Jesus  and  accepting  his  call,  deny  not  thy 
Lord  and  disguise  not  thy  profession,  for  'with,  the  heart  man 
believeth  unto  righteousness,  and  with  the  mouth  confession 
is  made  unto  salvation.' 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  the  covering  of  kingly  purple 
has  been  dipped  in  the  King's  own  blood ;  that  he,  who  in 
mockery  was  clothed  with  a  scarlet  robe,  does  really  wear  a 
'vesture  dyed  in  blood,'  his  own  blood  shed  for  his  Church. 
Purple  or  scarlet  has  been  the  badge  of  royalty  in  all  genera- 
tions— a  badge  strangely  significant,  for  the  only  king  that 
wears  it  by  fulness  of  divine  right,  and  wears  it  for  ever,  has 
drawn  the  royal  color  from  his  own  pierced  side.  While  the 
King  sits  at  the  passover  table  with  his  redeemed,  the  lintels 
and  door  posts  of  the  guest-chamber  are  sprinkled  red  with 
his  own  blood — 'This  cup  is  the  new  testament  in  my  blood 
shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins.'  Bride  of  the  slain 
Lamb!  In  all  your  journeyings  through  the  wilderness,  'bear 
about  with  you  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus;'  let  the  rams' 
skins  dyed  red  be  the  covering  of  your  tent  wherever  you  erect 
it  in  the  desert ;  let  the  purple  veil  be  the  covering  of  your 
chariot  in  all  your  onward  progress.  Let  your  own  eyes  be 
fastened  continually  on  the  blood  of  Jesus;  let  your  heart  ever 
iind  refuge  and  shelter  beneath  it;  and  by  friend  and  foe  alike, 
by  Israelite  and  Ishmaelite,  let  the  blood-red  token  be  seen  afar 
through  the  desert—a  terror  to  the  hosts  of  darkness,  a  bright 


256  THE    BRIDAL    PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  10. 

banner  of  joy  to  fellow-pilgrims,  a  flag  of  peace  and  friendship 
from  the  great  King  to  all  that  will  welcome  it! 

The  midst  thereof  being  paved  nnth  love  for  the  daughters  of 
Jerusalem. — The  love  that  is  here  described  as  paving  the 
midst  of  the  chariot  must  certainly  have  some  external  symbol, 
like  the  silver  and  the  gold  and  the  purple ;  and  is  thought 
by  many  interpreters  to  have  been  represented  by  flowers  and 
other  emblematic  devices,  wrought  in  the  lining  of  the  chariot 
by  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

The  top  of  princely  purple — and 
The  midst  thereof  by  his  command 

Is  richly  paved, 

Embost  and  graved ; 
With  curious  carpets  covering  them, 

That  woven  were, 

With  cost  and  care, 
By  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 

Troth-plight  Spouse. 

To  this  idea  more  recent  interpreters  have  added  another, 
which  renders  it  more  perfect — that  these  'curious  carpets' 
were  not  only  Svoven  with  cost  and  care,'  but  that  verses  ex- 
pressive of  love  were  wrought  into  their  fabric.  As,  when  the 
Bride  rejoices  because  his  'banner  over  her  was  love,'  she  seems 
to  intimate  that  the  royal  banner  bore  inscribed  on  it  tokens 
of  the  covenanted  love  of  God  toward  his  people;  so  here  it 
is  announced  that  the  interior  of  this  royal  chariot  is  inscribed 
with  assurances  of  divine  love — as  in  the  words  of  the  Old 
Testament, — '  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love,'  and 
of  the  New, — '  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him  should  not 
perish.'  In  substance,  this  view  of  the  interior  of  the  chariot 
is  correct;  but  there  is  no  reference  in  the  description  to  em- 
broidered work,  but  to  a  pavement,  which  both  the  oldest 
translators  and  the  best  Hebrew  scholars  render  a  pavement 
of  stone  (Sept.  Gesen.).  On  this  account  some  of  the  best  in- 
terpreters have  understood  it  of  a  tesselated  floor,  wrought 
into  hieroglyphic  emblems  significant  of  Christ's  love  to  his 
Church.    But  all  such  views  are  uncertain,  having  no  scriptural 


CHAP.  III.  10.  THE   KIXG's   CHARIOT.  257 

foundation,  and  they  leave  quite  unexplained  why  the  floor  of 
the  chariot  should  be  termed  the  'midst  thereof.'  The  whole 
is  clear  and  satisfactory  when  the  description  is  received  as 
referring  to  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  the  floor  of  which  was 
paved  with  the  two  tables  of  stone — yet  not  exactly  the  floor, 
but  rather  'the  midst  thereof  so  paved.  The  paving  with 
love  may  be  understood  partly  in  likeness,  and  partly  in  con- 
trast, to  the  writing  that  covered  these  stones;  which  were 
filled  with  love  as  the  tables  of  the  covenanting  God  who  had 
brought  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  yet  full  of  stern  demand  as  the 
ten  commandments  of  the  law.  But  the  ark  of  Solomon,  the 
ark  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  '  the  ark  of  his  testament,'  the  ark 
of  the  New  Covenant — has  the  midst  thereof  paved  with  pure 
love  and  grace  for  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, — for  all  the 
children  of  the  covenant. 

Referring  to  the  ancient  ark  with  the  tables  of  the  law  en- 
closed, Jesus  the  true  ark  of  the  covenant  says  to  the  Father, 
Hhy  law  is  within  my  heart;'  within  the  typical  ark  on  tables  of 
stone,  within  the  true  ark  on  living  tables  of  the  heart.  The 
law  was  within  Iiis  heart  toward  his  God;  toward  the  Church 
within  his  heart  was  love,  the  tables  of  his  heart  written  over 
with  love  for  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem.  Love  is  the  midst 
and  the  heart  of  the  whole  covenant  of  redemption.  It  is 
founded  on  righteousness,  yet  'through  righteousness  that 
grace  may  reign';  established  on  sacrificial  blood,  yet  love 
provides  the  sacrifice.  Wisdom  devises,  justice  acknowledges, 
power  executes,  but  love  moves,  redemption ;  love  in  the  Father, 
for  'God  is  love';  love  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  'the  love  of  the 
Spirit';  love  in  the  heart  of  Christ,  'who  loved  us  and  washed 
us  in  his  own  blood.'  The  height  and  the  depth,  and  the 
length  and  the  breadth,  of  the  love  of  Christ  pass  knowledge; 
and  this  'love'  is  the  very  'midst  of  the  chariot'  that  conveys 
the  heirs  of  salvation  to  their  Father's  house.  When  the  ex- 
terior of  the  royal  chariot  may  seem  to  be  encompassed  with 
state,  with  coldness,  or  with  displeasure,  in  the  midst  thereof 
and  in  the  inner  chamber  of  its  secret  counsels  there  burns  the 
warmth  of  divine  love.  The  sword  men  that  guard  the  royal 
presence  may  sometimes  appear  as  if  appointed  to  ward  off  the 


258  THE    BRIDAL    PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  10. 

daughter  of  Jerusalem,  but  let  her  boldly  pass  through  them 
all,  and  she  will  find  the  midst  of  the  chariot  love.  The  cedar 
and  the  silver,  the  purple  and  the  gold,  provided  for  the  Bride, 
may  by  their  very  glory  deter  her  trembling  footsteps ;  but  let 
her  enter,  and  the  instant  her  foot  is  placed  on  tlie  chariot- 
floor  to  ascend  within  it,  she  rests  on  'a  pavement  of  love.' 

With  love  for  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem. — It  is  for  every  one 
that  will  hear  the  invitation,  ^Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give 
you  rest !'     It  is  rest,  yet  rapid  progress — a  wondrous  secret. 
The  labor  of  man  without  grace  is  running  without  progress- 
ing, wandering  in  a  labyrinth  of  darkness.     Union  to  Jesus 
Christ  is  rest  from  toil,  yet  in  that  rest  constant  progress — God- 
ward,  truthward,  heavenward,  homeward  every  hour.     Thou 
hadst  no  heart  for  Zion  once,  thou  wast  at  home  in  a  far  country, 
and  when  awoke,  it  was  to  set  thyself  to  work  thy  way  across 
the  wide  wilderness ;  parched,  weary,  lame,  sick  with  the  jour- 
ney, and  no  nearer  the  ncAv  Jerusalem,  till  at  last  thy  way  was 
lost  altogether.     What  had  seemed  right  was  wrong,  what  had 
been  counted  truth  was  error,  and  the  path  that  had  been  taken 
to  lead  to  heaven  had  brought  thee  to  the  very  brink  of  hell ; 
unable  now  to  walk,  for  all  thy  strength  was  gone ;  afraid  to 
advance  lest  thy  steps  might  mislead,  for  thy  M'isdom  had 
perished.     There  were  songs  of  praise  from  the  Bride  of  the 
Lamb  even  in  the  desert,  but  they  were  not  for  thee ;  the  royal 
chariot  had  sometimes  crossed  thy  course,  but  its  purple,  and 
silver,  and  gold,  presented  no  attraction,  for  they  were  not 
thine.     To  enter,  and  have  part  and  lot  within  it,  never  oc- 
curred to  thy  thought;  and  the  utmost  benefit  it  could  confer 
was  to  mark  the  road  which  thou  must  trudge  on  foot  for  thy- 
self.    Hard  was  thy  race  to  keep  pace  with  it,  but  it  passed 
triumphantly  onward  till  its  songs  of  praise  had  died  away 
from  the  ear,  and  the  last  gleam  of  its  bridal  lamps  had  faded 
from  the  aching  eyes.     To  lay  thyself  down  for  death  seemed 
all  that  was  left;  unwilling  to  die,  yet  unable  to  live.     The 
King's  chariot  appeared  again,  approached  as  if  to  cross  thy 
path,  drew  near  as  if  for  thee.     Impossible! — the  King  him- 
self can  never  have  come  for  me!     The  word  proclaimed — 
'The  Son  of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was 


CHAP.  III.  11.        THE   CROWN   OF    ESPOUSAL.  259 

lost — now  is  the  accepted  time — now  the  day  of  thy  visitation'; 
and  the  Spirit  moved  thee  saying,  'Go  join  thyself  to  this 
chariot.'  Necessity  made  thee  bold — it  was  thy  only  liope  of 
life — either  thns  to  live  or  else  to  perish  in  the  wilderness. 
'  Hesitating  between  guilt  and  fear,  the  voice  of  Jesus  invited 
thee  from  the  golden  mercy-seat,  'Come  unto  me  and  I  will 
give  thee  rest — him  that  cometh  unto  me  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out.'  Thy  heart  consented,  and  before  thou  wast  aware, 
believing,  thou  hadst  entered  into  rest;  thy  soul  was  within 
the  pavilion  of  the  Lord,  and  'the  midst  thereof  was  paved 
with  love  for  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem.'  Having  received, 
'he  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee,  but  to  hoar  hairs 
will  carry  thee,  and  bring  thee  to  Zion  with  everlasting  songs 
upon  thy  head.'  Will  none  other  join  this  chariot? — will  no 
weary  foot  consent  to  rest  within  it? — no  bewildered  wanderer 
exchange  unhallowed  working  in  the  strength  of  self  for  a 
holy  Sabbath  of  rest  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — for  a  rest  that 
will  bear  the  soul  triumphantly  onward  to  the  prize  of  the 
high  calling  above  ? 

THE   CROWN   OF   ESPOUSAL. 

Go  forth,  0  ye  daughters  of  Zion,  and  behold  King  Solomon 
with  the  crown  iclierewith  his  mother  crowned  him  in  the  day  of 
his  espousals,  and  in  the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart. — The 
crown  that  is  on  the  head  of  Jesus,  the  mother  that  places  it 
there,  and  the  day  of  the  coronation,  are  combined  together, 
and  serve  to  explain  each  other.  'On  his  head  are  many 
crowns,'  but  they  are  his  Father's  gift.  The  crown  of  j^riest- 
hood  is  from  the  Father,  who  calleth  him — 'Thou  art  a  priest 
for  ever  after  the  order  of  Melchisedec';  the  crown  of  kingdom 
from  the  Father,  who  anointed  him — 'I  have  set  my  King 
upon  my  holy  hill  of  Zion.'  But  it  is  simply  a  marriage 
crown,  a  bridal  coronet,  a  nuptial  chaplet,  Avhich  his  mother 
places  on  his  head.  The  first  garland  with  which  his  mother 
adorns  him  is  a  crown  of  thorns.  The  day  of  his  death  is  the 
day  of  his  espousals,  when  he  lays  down  for  his  bride  the  ran- 
som of  his  blood,  and  she  becomes  his — not  merely  in  fulness 
of  love,  but  in  fulness  of  right.  Nor  is  his  dying  day,  with 
Q 


260  THE    BRIDAL    PROCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  1]. 

its  unknown  agony,  separate  fi*om  the  gladness  of  liis  heart. 
This  was  the  day  that  he  longed  for,  saying,  '  with  desire  I 
have  desired  to  eat  this  passover' — longed  for  with  an  ardour 
of  desire  that  could  not  be  augmented.  This  was  the  day  that 
he  sjioke  of  as  his  exaltation,  saying,  'if  I  be  lifted  up,  I  will 
draw  all  men  unto  me/  counting  that  lowest  humiliation  a 
glorious  exalting.  This  was  the  day  of  his  betrothing  feast — 
when  he  gave  the  wedding  v>ine-cup  to  his  Bride,  'the  cup  of 
the  new  covenant,'  inviting  her  to  drink  it.  This  was  the  day 
of  conquest  and  victory,  when  'he  spoiled  principalities  and 
powers  and  made  a  show  of  them  openly,  triumphing  over  them 
in  his  Cross.'  This  was  the  day  that  ended  all  his  labors,  all 
his  sorrows,  all  his  Father's  wrath,  all  his  people's  sins,  when 
at  last  he  could  triumphantly  declare — 'It  is  finished.'  This 
for  ever  is  the  day  that  he  bears  in  perpetual  remembrance, 
wearing  still  the  bright  print  of  its  nails,  and  the  red  seal  of 
its  spear.  It  is  'the  day  of  his  espousals,'  and  dark  though 
it  was,  yet  for  ever  'the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart.' 

'The  crown  wherewith  his  mother  crowned  him' on  that 
day,  was  the  crown  of  thorns  which  the  soldiers  plaited-  and 
put  upon  his  head,  along  with  the  superscription  Pilate  wrote 
— '  Jesus  of  Nazareth  the  King  of  the  Jews.'  God  is  the  Father 
of  Jesus,  his  only  Father;  the  Father  of  the  Eternal  Word, 
the  Father  of  that  Word  made  flesh ;  Jesus  owns  and  has  no 
other  Father.  Yet  Jesus  ever  calls  himself  'the  Son  of  Man'; 
and  never  calls  Mary  his  mother,  nor  himself  the  son  of  Mary. 
When,  therefore,  he  entitles  himself 'the  Son  of  Man' — being 
through  Mary  of  the  seed  of  David,  of  Abraham,  of  Adam — 
he  virtually  calls  the  human  family  his  mother.  His  mother's 
children  to  whom  he  was  an  alien  are  the  members  of  this  hu- 
man family ;  and  when  men  who  are  of  his  flesh  and  of  his 
bones  crown  him  with  thorns,  it  is  his  own  mother  who  places 
the  crown  upon  his  head.  'Go  forth,  then,  ye  daughters  of 
Zion,  and  behold  King  Solomon  with  the  crown  wherewith 
his  mother  crowned  him  in  the  day  of  his  espousals.'  See 
Pilate  'bringing  him  forth  wearing  the  purple  robe  and  the 
crown  of  thorns';  hear  him  say,  'Behold  the  man! — behold 
your  King!'  and  'look  on  him  whom  ye  also  have  pierced,' 


CHAP.  III.  11.        THE   CROWN   OF   ESPOUSAL.  261 

remembering  that  your  hands  plaited  those  thorns,  and  placed 
the  bloody  chaplet  on  his  brow.  Yet,  go  forth  and  look  on 
him,  yea,  go  and  'kiss  the  Son';  for  it  is  'the  day  of  his  es- 
pousals,' the  time  of  his  love,  the  time  of  your  acceptance  and 
favor.  The  thorns  are  the  bridal  coronet,  the  shed  blood  the 
bridal  wine-cup,  the  broken  body  the  bridal  bread ;  and,  stand- 
ing with  them  all.  King  Solomon  is  waiting  with  the  marriage- 
ring  in  his  hand,  and  over  every  soul  that  will  embrace  Him 
it  is  the  day  of  his  espousals  and  the  day  of  the  gladness  of 
his  heart — the  day  also  of  your  espousals,  and  the  day  of  the 
gladness  of  your  heart. 

But  Jesus  owns  another  mother  besides  her  that  crowned 
him  with  thorns,  and  another  coronation ;  or  rather,  that  same 
mother  ransomed  and  renewed  he  acknowledges  with  honor, 
and  is  willing  to  receive  another  crown  from  her  hands.  Not 
ashamed  to  call  believers  brethren,  he  is  not  ashamed  to  ac- 
knowledge the  Church,  their  mother,  as  also  his  own — '  remem- 
ber thy  servant,  and  save  the  son  of  thine  handmaid.'  He  is 
the  King  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  yet  born  within  that 
kingdom,  baptized  within  it  to  fulfil  all  righteousness,  and 
saying  of  all  that  do  the  will  of  his  Father — 'the  same  is  my 
mother.'  He  is  '  the  First-born  to  God  among  many  brethren' 
— the  First-born  also  of  the  Church,  which  'travails  in  birth 
till  she  is  delivered  of  this  Man-child  that  is  to  rule  the  na- 
tions.' 

This  mother  crowns  him  in  the  day  of  his  espousals,  when 
she  travails  in  birth  for  souls,  and  brings  them  unto  him  to  be 
a  crown  of  joy  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  ;  crowns  him  in  the  day 
of  espousals  when  she  winnetli  souls  for  a  crown  to  herself, 
and  casts  the  crown  at  his  feet  saying,  'Worthy  is  the  Lamb!' 
— the  crown  in  his.  There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  brings 
gladness  to  the  heart  of  Jesus  like  a  crown  of  lost  souls;  and 
blessed,  honored,  and  happy  are  they  who  through  grace  pre- 
sent him  such  a  crown,  for  it  is  ever  a  bridal  token  in  the  day 
of  espousals.  Jesus,  occupied  in  winning  one  lost  soul  at  the 
well  of  Sychar,  said,  'My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  ray  Father.' 
Whoso  goetli  and  doeth  likewise  does  the  will  of  the  heavenly 
Father;  of  that  soul  Jesus  says,  'the  same  is  my  mother;'  and 


262  THE   BRIDAL   PEOCESSION.  CHAP.  III.  11. 

fro'.u  such  a  worker  of  his  Father's  will  he  joyfully  receives 
such  a  crown  in  the  day  of  his  espousals  to  ransomed  souls. 

But  the  final  reference  is  to  the  great  day  of  the  Lord, — the 
day  of  solemn,  open,  eternal  marriage — '■  the  wedding-supper 
of  the  Lamb  when  his  wife  is  ready.'  Never  is  the  Bride  ready 
till  then ;  never  till  then  are  all  the  virgins  gathered  who  follow 
the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth ;  never  till  then  is  the  last 
needle-work  of  the  bride's  personal  raiment  finished;  never 
till  then  is  the  last  spot  washed  from  every  robe;  never  till 
then  do  '  they  that  are  ready  go  in  to  the  marriage ;'  and  never 
till  then  is  'the  door  shut  that  they  may  go  no  more  out.'  Never 
till  then  is  the  prayer  fulfilled,  that  'where  He  is  they  may  be 
also  to  behold  his  glory' ;  and  never  till  then  is  the  last  wine- 
drop  poured  into  the  cup  of  the  Redeemer's  joy — till  it  is  full 
on  the  day  of  marriage,  even  as  his  cup  of  sorrow  on  the  day 
of  betrothing.  All  the  daughters  of  Zion  are  now  summoned 
to  behold  him  with  his  nuptial  crown,  'anointed  with  the  oil 
of  joy  above  his  fellows,  and  most  glad  for  evermore.'  'Go 
ye  out,'  then,  O  daughters  of  Zion !  at  the  voice  of  the  last 
trumpet,  leaving  for  ever  the  chambers  of  your  last  sleep ;  and, 
coming  forth  into  the  morning  of  endless  life,  'behold  king 
Solomon  crowned  in  the  day  of  his  espousals  and  in  the  day 
of  the  gladness  of  his  heart.'  Hasten,  Lord,  the  day ! — Come, 
Jjord  Jesus,  come  quickly ! 

Daughters  of  Zion  come,  behold 

The  crown  of  honor  and  of  gold, 

Which  the  glad  Church  with  joys  unknown, 

Placed  on  the  head  of  Solomon. 

Jesus,  thou  everlasting  King, 
Accept  the  tribute  which  we  bring  ; 
Accept  the  dearly-bought  renown, 
And  wear  our  praises  as  thy  crown. 

Let  every  act  of  worship  be 
Like  our  espousals,  Lord,  to  thee ; 
Till  we  are  raised  to  sing  thy  name 
At  the  great  supper  of  the  Lamb. 

O  that  the  months  would  roll  away. 
And  bring  that  Coronation  day ! 
The  King  of  grace  shall  fill  the  throne, 
With  all  his  Father's  glories  on. —  y?atts. 


CHAP.  IV.  1-7.     PORTRAIT  OF  THE  BRIDE  BY  THE  KING.    263 

XIV. 
PORTRAIT  OF  THE  BRIDE  BY  THE  KING. 

THE  SPOTLESS  BRIDE: 

THE  doves'  eyes — THE  GOATS  ON  THE  MOUNTAIIf — THE  SHEEP  FROM 
THE  RIVER — THE  SCARLET  FILLET — THE  BROKEN  POMEGRANATE — 
THE  TOWER  OF  ARMOURY — THE  TWIN  ROES. 

Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  love;  behold,  thou  art  fair:  thou  Aas^  doves' 
eyes  within  thy  locks :  thy  hair  is  as  a  flock  of  goats  that  appear  from 
mount  Gilead.  Thy  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep  that  are  even  shorn, 
which  came  up  from  the  washing ;  whereof  every  one  bear  twins,  and 
none  is  barren  among  them.  Thy  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  scarlet,  and 
thy  speech  is  comely ;  thy  temi^les  are  like  a  piece  of  a  pomegranate  with- 
in thy  locks.  Thy  neck  is  like  the  tower  of  David  builded  for  an  armoury, 
whereon  there  hang  a  thousand  bucklers,  all  shields  of  mighty  men.  Thy 
two  breasts  are  like  two  young  roes  that  are  twins,  which  feed  among  the 
lilies.  Until  the  day  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away,  I  will  get  me  to 
the  mountain  of  myrrh,  and  to  the  hill  of  frankincense.  Thou  art  all 
fair,  my  love :  there  is  no  spot  in  thee. — Chap.  iv.  1-7. 

THE   SPOTLESS   BRIDE. 

Behold,  tJiou  art  fair,  my  love;  behold,  thou,  art  fair.  Thou 
oH  all  fair,  my  love;  there  is  no  spot  in  thee. — 'From  the  sole 
of  the  foot  even  unto  the  head,  there  is  no  soundness  in  it,  but 
wounds  and  bruises  and  putrifying  sores' — such  the  believer 
is  by  nature:  'Thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there  is  no  spot  in 
thee' — such  the  same  believer  is  through  grace.  The  Church 
in  herself,  in  all  her  features,  and  in  all  her  members,  is  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  an  object  of  highest  esteem  for  her  worth,  of  in- 
tensest  admiration  for  her  beauty,  and  of  most  ardent  love  for 
her  exceeding  loveliness.  She  was  guilty,  vile,  useless;  and 
as  such  'was  cast  out  into  the  open  held  in  the  day  that  she 
was  born.'  But  'Christ  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself 
for  it,  that  he  might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  by  the  washing  of 
water  with  the  word ;  that  he  might  present  it  to  himself  a 
glorious  Church,  not  having  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing, 
but  that  it  should  be  holy  and  without  blemish.'     He  looked 


264  THE    SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  1,  7. 

on  the  unlovely  with  inconceivable  pity  and  commiseration, 
'  according  to  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us  even  when 
we  were  dead  in  sins.'  But  he  so  loved  as  to  secure  through 
his  own  blood,  that  the  Church  should  for  ever  be  distinguished 
by  her  own  loveliness,  even  as  she  had  been  distinguished  by 
being  His  beloved.  In  the  final  state  of  the  redeemed,  every 
believer  will  be  really  and  for  ever,  both  in  soul  and  body, 
what  the  fair  Absalom  was  outwardly  for  a  brief  and  thought- 
less hour — 'so  much  to  be  praised  for  beauty,  that  from  the 
sole  of  the  foot  even  to  the  crown  of  the  head  there  was  no 
blemish  in  him.'  Meanwhile  the  Church's  beauty,  defective 
and  marred,  is  '  made  perfect  through  his  comeliness  put  upon 
her';  her  ' sin  always  covered,'  herself  always  'accepted  in  the 
Beloved';  and  'no  iniquity  seen  in  Israel,  nor  transgression  in 
Jacob.' 

The  Bride  of  the  Lamb  is  invested  with  a  double  comeli- 
ness ;  with  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  her  God  upon  her,  with  the 
beauty  of  holiness  in  her;  by  Christ  clothing  her  with  righte- 
ousness, all  glorious  around — by  the  Spirit  creating  her  anew, 
'all  glorious  within.'  In  the  comeliness  of  Jesus  the  soul  is 
as  lovely  in  the  hour  of  its  acceptance,  as  Moses  or  Elijah  be- 
fore the  throne  above.  Of  the  criminals  pardoned  but  yester- 
day Jesus  declares — 'The  glory  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given 
them;' to  the  sinner  newly  washed  Jesus  announces — 'Now 
you  are  clean  through  the  word  I  have  spoken  unto  you' — 
'  thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there  is  no  spot  in  thee.'  This 
beauty  changes  not;  is  never  enhanced,  is  never  impaired. 
This  'garment  of  salvation'  has  been  perfect  from  the  day  when 
'the  Lamb  without  spot  and  blemish  was  led  to  the  slaughter, 
and  was  dumb  before  the  shearers';  spot  on  that  snowy  fleece 
there  never  was,  and  spot  shall  never  be  found  on  its  accepted 
wearer.  It  is  all  fair,  and  always  fair;  without  blemish  and 
incapable  of  blemish  ;  as  fair  and  spotless  on  the  guiltiest 
transgressor  in  earth,  as  on  Paul  in  heaven  'found  in  Christ 
and  having;  His  rifjhteousness'  ibr  ever.  The  soldiers  beneath 
the  cross,  with  hands  stained  witli  priceless  blood  sitting  down 
and  watching  there,  cast  their  lots  into  the  lap  over  the  seam- 
less vesture  of  Jesus;  'the  wliole  disposing  thereof  was  of  the 


CIIAr.  IV.  1,  7.  THE   SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  265 

Lord,'  but  to  whomsoever  allotted,  and  by  whomsoever  worn, 
it  was  the  unrcnt  earthly  vestment  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows. 
To  have  'part  and  lot  in  this  matter,'  not  of  earthly  spoil  but 
of  heavenly  inheritance,  is  'theirs  only  for  whom  it  is  prepared 
by  the  Father.'  But  to  the  receiving  soul  is  given  the  undi- 
vided 'Christ,  made  of  God  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctifica- 
tion,  and  redemption';  and  Jesus,  recognising  his  own  garment 
of  salvation,  declares — 'Thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there  is  no 
spot  in  thee.' 

Simultaneously  with  the  imputation  of  justifying  righteous- 
ness, and  the  sprinkling  of  cleansing  blood,  is  the  formation 
of 'the  new  creature'  by  the  Spirit,  in  child-like  resemblance 
to  the  Father,  in  brother-like  similitude  to  his  first-born  Son. 
The  adopted  child  of  God  'receives  grace  for  grace'  in  the  only- 
begotten  Son — like  him  in  all  his  lineaments — infinitely  dis- 
tant from  his  fulness.  The  new  creature  '  born  of  God  and 
sinning  not/  is  the  fair  handiwork  of  Jehovah,  and  like  all  his 
works  is  'very  good;'  but  is  encumbered  with  the  body  of  sin 
and  death,  marring  its  beauty,  fettering  its  energies,  hindering 
its  growth.  Its  comeliness,  therefore,  varies  according  as  it 
is  seen  in  its  own  heavenly  beauty,  and  thriving  in  the  midst 
of  all  obstructions  by  earth  or  hell ;  or  it  is  found  feeble  in  its 
energies,  oppressed  by  Satan,  and  spotted  by  the  world.  'Thou 
art  all  fair,  my  love,'  is  never  withheld  by  Christ  from  the  be- 
lieving soul;  for  he  not  only  says  to  his  disciples  'now  ye  are 
clean  through  the  word  wiiieh  I  have  spoken  unto  you,'  but 
even  when  men  would  have  judged  otherwise,  he  says  of  them 
'they  have  kept  thy  word.'  But  it  is  wdien  they  'walk  before 
him  unto  all  well-pleasing,'  that  the  complacency  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  over  his  people  is  full,  his  joy  in  them  remains,  and  his 
heart  freely  utters — 'Behold  thou  art  fair,  my  love,  behold 
thou  art  fair !' 

'As  the  fining-pot  for  silver,  and  the  furnace  for  gold,  so  is 
a  man  to  his  praise';  yet  neither  Christ's  extolling  of  the 
Church  Catholic,  nor  his  personal  commendation  of  the  saint, 
ever  hurts  the  child  of  God.  The  praise  of  man  injures  man. 
The  praise  of  the  world  injures,  the  praise  of  the  Church  in- 
jures; but  none  is  injured  by  either  seeking  or  obtaining  'the 


266  THE    SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  1,  7. 

praise  that  cometh  from  God  only.'  In  so  far  as  the  commen- 
(latiou  is  applicable  in  any  individual  case,  it  is  ground  of 
gratitude  and  source  of  strength ;  but  the  praise  is  Christ's 
and  not  ours,  for  'it  is  he  that  made  us  and  not  we  ourselves/ 
and  he  fashioned  us  'to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his  grace.' 
The  rejoicing  also  is  with  trembling,  for  that  which  is  true  of 
us  to-day — 'Thou  hast  a  little  strength,  and  hast  kept  my 
word,  and  hast  not  denied  my  name' — did  not  characterize  us 
yesterday,  and  may  not  be  our  character  to-morrow.  In  so 
far,  again,  as  this  is  Christ's  commendation  of  the  Church  at 
large,  or  of  the  normal  type  of  a  believer  given  as  a  model  for 
all,  it  furnishes  a  test  for  self-examination  touching  our  own 
likeness  to  the  divine  model,  and  a  ground  for  deep  humilia- 
tion on  account  of  our  exceeding  disparity. 

'The  parts  and  the  comely  proportions'  of  'the  new  crea- 
ture' are  described  in  this  Song  under  seven  distinct  features, 
uniting  perfection  of  number  with  perfection  of  beauty;  and 
to  each  of  these  pictures  is  attached  a  separate  similitude  or 
emblem.  To  our  darkness  the  feature  is  sometimes  simpler  of 
interpretation  than  the  emblem,  at  other  times  the  emblem 
simpler  than  the  feature,  and  again,  the  allegory  solves  itself 
by  the  union  of  both.  The  seven  features  are  the  eyes,  the  hair, 
the  teeth,  the  lips,  the  temples,  the  neck,  and  the  breasts  ;  and 
the  seven  similitudes  the  doves,  the  flock  of  goats,  the  flock  of 
sheep,  the  thread  of  scarlet,  the  piece  of  pomegranate,  the  tower 
of  David,  and  the  young  roe-twins.  In  living  reality,  they 
are  all  the  work  of  the  Spirit  renewing;  and  the  discovery  of 
their  beauty  is  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  illuminating. 

To  apprehend  these  graces  aright,  we  must  bear  in  memory, 
that  when  Jesus  came  down  to  earth  to  ransom  his  Bride  with 
liis  own  blood,  she  had  lost  both  the  filial  privilege  of  her 
Father's  house  and  the  grace  of  her  own  early  beauty;  that 
he  found  her  a  wretched  slave  in  the  prison-house,  blind,  shorn, 
maimed,  with  leprous  lips,  with  brazen  brow,  with  chained 
neck,  and  shapeless  bust;  that  such  a  Bride  he  undertook  to 
'present  to  himself  Avithout  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing'; 
and  that  he  describes  her  in  contrast  with  what  he  had  found 
her,  as  well  as  in  the  comeliness  with  which  she  is  now  in- 
vested. 


CHAP.  IV.  1.  THE   doves'    EYES.  267 

THE   doves'   eyes. 

Thou  hast  doves'  eyes  within  thy  locks — the  eyes  of  the  Bride 
beins:  likened  to  the  beautiful  eves  of  Eastern  doves.  The 
habitation  of  the  human  family  had  become  'a  hold  of  every 
foul  spirit,  and  a  cage  of  every  unclean  and  hateful  bird;'  but 
amidst  the  owls  and  the  bats  Jesus  recognises  the  dove — the 
bird  so  distinctively  clean,  that  no  other  is  noticed  as  presented 
to  the  Lord  in  sacrifice.  Alone  among  these  birds  of  the  night 
the  dove  with  fixed  eyes  watches  for  the  morning,  and  this 
waiting  eye  is  the  feature  that  first  attracts  the  eye  of  Jesus. 
Shining  through  the  darkness  of  the  forest,  the  first  feature 
that  meets  the  huntsman's  view  is  the  sparkling  eye  of  the  ob- 
ject of  his  search  or  of  his  fear;  looking  through  the  night  of 
the  lightless  hovel  where  poverty  and  sickness  have  taken  their 
abode,  the  first  token  of  living  creature  within  is  the  glancing 
of  the  human  eye;  and  from  amidst  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
the  first  feature  that  rivets  the  regard  of  the  Holy  One  above 
is  the  upward  gleaming  of  the  watcher's  eye,  'waiting  for  the 
Lord  as  for  the  morning  dawn.' 

Such  a  w^atcher  was  John  the  Baptist — such  a  seer  through 
the  gloom  of  the  night.  He  is  entitled  the  'turtle-dove,'  be- 
cause the  first  to  announce  winter  past,  and  proclaim  the  ap- 
proaching summer  of  grace  and  truth  in  the  rising  of  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness.  But  if  he  had  'the  voice  of  the  turtle'  to 
herald  the  advent  of  Jesus,  he  had  also  the  eye  of  the  dove  to 
discern  his  form.  The  dove  is  famed  for  its  power  of  distant 
vision,  and  hence  in  some  of  its  species  has  been  employed  as 
the  messenger  of  'news  from  a  far  country.'  Consider  John 
the  Baptist — remember  that  he  is  himself  among  the  brightest 
of  the  bridal  virgins  that  go  forth  to  meet  the  Bridegroom — 
contemplate  him  after  the  return  of  Jesus  from  the  wilderness 
perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense — watch  him  as  he  takes 
a  fixed  attitude  and  'stands  with  two  of  his  disciples' — see 
him  through  the  long  tresses  of  his  Nazarite  hair,  with  stead- 
fast eye  'looking  upon  Jesus  as  he  walks' — and  hear  Jesus 
in  spirit  accost  him  and  all  the  Church, — 'Thou  hast  doves' 
eyes  within  thy  locks.' 


268  THE    SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  1. 

The  eye  is  the  scriptural  term  for  light  or  spiritual  under- 
standing; the  dove  the  emblem  of  purity  and  simplicity.  Je- 
sus Christ  sent  'to  save  the  lost/  is  always  represented  as 
coming  into  the  midst  of  the  blind — 'I  will  give  thee  for  a 
covenant  to  open  the  blind  eyes — I  am  come  into  this  world 
that  they  which  see  not  might  see.'  Not  least  among  the  in- 
juries sustained  by  the  fall  of  the  human  family  are  'blindness 
of  heart  and  the  understanding  darkened';  aggravated  by  con- 
fident presumption  that  'we  see,  and  therefore  our  sin  remain- 
ing.' But  Jesus  anoints  the  closed  eyes  with  clay,  covers  and 
seals  them  up  with  thick  darkness  that  may  be  felt,  convinces 
the  blind  man  of  blindness,  and  sends  him  to  wash  in  the  pool 
of  Siloam,  whence  he  returns  seeing.  'The  eyes  of  his  under- 
standing have  been  enlightened  to  know  the  hope  of  the  call- 
ing— he  has  received  the  Spirit  that  is  of  God  to  know  the 
things  that  are  freely  given  him  of  God.' 

Along  with  divine  intelligence,  the  eyes  of  all  that  are  illu- 
minated possess  a  most  dove-like  chasteness  and  simplicity. 
The  day' after  John  had  testified — 'Behold  the  Lamb  of  God!' 
Jesus  saw  Nathanael  coming  to  him,  and  said  of  him — 'Be- 
hold an  Israelite  indeed  in  whom  there  is  no  guile.'  Jesus 
acknowledges  in  him  the  character  of  his  Bride,  guileless  and 
'harmless  as  doves;'  and  the  Bride  recognises  in  Jesus  the 
glorious  King  to  whom  the  Church  is  betrothed — '  Rabbi,  thou 
art  the  Son  of  God,  thou  art  the  King  of  Israel!'  This  dove- 
like simplicity  of  eye  is  closely  connected  with  mental  illu- 
mination ;  duplicity  of  heart  is  nearly  allied  to  mental  dark- 
ness. The  double-minded  man  is  next  of  kin  to  him  that  is 
born  blind.  The  blind  gropes  for  the  wall  at  noonday,  and 
stumbles  into  the  ditch ;  'the  double-minded  man  is  unstable  in 
all  his  ways,'  and  cannot  escape  clear  out  of  the  mire.  He  steps 
forward,  backward,  to  the  right  hand,  to  the  left — an  onlooker 
would  pronounce  him  blindfold.  But  'the  pure  in  heart,'  the 
simple  and  sincere  in  spirit, '  see  God/  whom  the  double-hearted 
never  behold.  The  singleness  of  the  eye's  aim  is  even  more 
important  than  the  clearness  of  the  eye's  perception.  'The 
light  of  the  body  is  the  eye,  if  therefore  thine  eye  be  single 
thy  whole  body  shall  be  full  of  light,  but  if  thine  eye  be  evil 


CHAP.  IV.  1.       THE    GOATS    OX    THE    MOUNTAIN.  2G9 

thy  whole  body  shall  be  full  of  darkness — take  heed  therefore 
that  the  light  which  is  in  thee  be  not  darkness  :  If  thy  whole 
body  therefore  be  full  of  light  having  no  part  dark,  the  wliole 
shall  be  full  of  light  as  when  the  bright  shining  of  a  candle 
doth  give  thee  light.'  Lord!  'unite  my  heart  to  fear  thy  name! 
— make  it  one,  simple,  undivided  toward  thee,  my  Lord  ond 
my  God ! 

THE  GOATS  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

Thy  hair  is  like  a  flock  of  goats  that  appear  from  Ilount  Grilead. 
— A  flock  of  goats  with  their  long,  silvery,  shining  hair,  and 
wont  to  hang  on  the  steepest  cr^  of  the  rock,  are  seen  grazing 
on  the  crown,  the  brow,  and  the  shoulders  of  Mount  Gilead, 
where  stood  the  'heap  of  witness'  of  an  ancient  covenant.  So 
hang,  flowing  from  the  head  over  the  shoulders,  the  shining 
locks  of  the  Bride  of  Immanuel. 

The  clusters  of  thy  sable  hair, 

Like  goats  on  crown  of  mountain  fair, 

In  thick  profusion  flow. —  Grad.  of  Oxf. 

Toward  man,  the  long  hair  of  woman  is  the  symbol  of  sub- 
jection, and  'if  a  woman  have  long  hair  it  is  a  glory  to  her, 
given  her  for  a  covering — for  the  head  of  the  woman  is  the 
man.'  In  like  manner  of  old  toward  God,  the  long  hair  of 
the  Xazarite  was  the  outward  symbol  of  consecration  to  the 
Lord  of  Hosts — of  subjection  and  dedication  to  an  unseen 
Head.  When  the  unseen  Bridegroom  of  the  Church  was  pub- 
licly manifested  and  first  met  the  Bride,  it  was  in  the  person 
of  John  the  Baptist,  with  his  hairy  vestment,  and  leathern 
girdle,  and  his  Nazarite  locks  flowing  down  his  shoulders — 
'Thy  hair  is  like  a  flock  of  goats  that  appear  from  Mount 
Gilead.'  While  the  Bridegroom  was  present  with  the  Bride 
on  earth,  twice  over  she  stooped  down  at  his  feet  and  wiped 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head — '  Ye  call  me  Master  and  Lord, 
and  so  I  am' — thy  hair  is  like  the  goats  on  Gilead  clustered 
round  the  'heap  of  witness.' 

Look  at  the  Nazarite,  with  his  whole  person  from  head  to 


270  THE   SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  1. 

foot  presented  a  living  sacrifice,  and  no  part  to  be  marred  by 
the  hand  of  man — not  a  hair  of  tlie  head  touched,  as  the  altar 
was  of  stones  unhewn,  and  the  red  heifer  unstained  by  the  yoke. 
Let  Samson  serve  for  illustration.  His  unshorn  locks  were  a 
sign  to  himself,  to  Israel,  to  the  Philistines,  of  his  unbroken 
vow;  of  his  accepted  and  abiding  dedication  to  the  Most  High. 
In  them  lay  the  secret  of  his  strength,  because  there  waved  in 
every  hair  the  sign  of  his  separation — 'no  razor  shall  come  on 
his  head,  for  the  child  shall  be  a  Nazarite  to  God  from  the 
womb  to  the  day  of  his  death.'  His  great  strength  lay  in  his 
covenanted  union  to  the  God  of  Israel,  but  his  hair  'like  a 
flock  of  goats  on  Mount  Gilead  '  was  the  token  of  the  covenant, 
and  therefore  the  secret  of  lij^  strength!  The  covenant  was 
most  secret  between  him  and  his  God,  its  symbol  most  open 
and  visible  to  all  tlie  world,  to  friend  and  foe;  but  they  could 
not  divine  the  hidden  link  that  bound  the  visible  emblem  to 
the  mysterious  might.  They  saw  the  seven  golden  locks  that 
adorned  the  strong  man's  head ;  and  tliey  saw  the  new  cords 
that  bound  him,  broken  by  his  arras  like  a  thread  of  tow  when 
it  touched  the  fire.  They  saw  him  seize  the  moist  jaw-bone 
of  the  ass — no  fool's  weapon  but  a  broad  and  heavy  blade,  a 
hard  Herculean  club  in  a  strong  man's  hand — for  to  this  day 
the  value  of  the  ass  is  estimated  by  the  size  of  the  jaw-bone; 
and  with  this  homely  sword  they  saw  him  slay  a  thousand  of 
his  shouting  captors  (Note).  They  beheld  both  the  singularity 
of  his  seven  locks,  and  the  singularity  of  his  sevenfold  strength; 
but  they  never  suspected  the  existence  of  a  secret  chain  that 
bound  these  together;  and  when  once  discovered  they  soon 
forgot  it  again,  while  his  hair  was  growing  for  a  greater  out- 
burst of  victorious  power. 

Even  so  is  it  with  the  Bride  the  Lamb's  wife.  From  the 
day  of  her  birth  into  the  kingdom  of  grace  to  the  day  of  her 
death,  she  is  a  Nazarite  to  Israel's  God.  She  'presents  her 
body  unto  God  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  and  acceptable,  as  her 
reasonable  service.'  She  does  this  openly  in  the  presence  of 
friends  and  in  the  face  of  foes;  'being  bought  with  a  price, 
she  glorifies  God  in  her  body  and  in  her  spirit  which  arc  God's.' 
The  world  looks  on  and  wonders,  threatens,  tempts,  objects, 


CHAP.  IV.  1.       THE    GOATS    ON    THE    MOUNTAIN.  271 

interferes.  Her  ^lair  like  a  flock  of  goats  on  Mount  Gilead' 
renders  her  exceeding  lovely  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  "whose 
love  alone  she  values,  but  is  an  offence  and  affront  to  the  chil- 
dren of  this  world.  Tliey  ask  why  the  world  should  be  turned 
upside  down,  why  any  son  of  man  should  be  so  strange  and 
singular,  so  diverse  from  the  manners  and  so  separate  from 
the  society  of  men. 

But  again,  they  see  a  singular  strength  in  this  chaste  virgin  es- 
poused to  Christ,  in  this  Nazarite  with  his  seven  locks.  They 
see  him  breaking  bars  of  iron  and  fetters  of  brass — they  bind  him 
with  their  wiles,  and  their  cords  are  snapped  asunder  by  his 
arms — they  compass  him  with  hostile  multitudes,  only  to  witness 
his  triumphant  victory.  But  they  know  not  the  secret  of  his 
strength,  and  are  unwilling  to  recognise  it.  They  mark  the  un- 
shorn locks  of  consecration  and  mock,  they  behold  the  invincible 
strength  and  stand  in  awe,  but  the  mystery  of  their  union  they 
slowly  and  faintly  apprehend.  But  the  beauty  of  the  Bride, 
with  her  hair  like  a  flock  of  goats  on  Mount  Gilead,  is  often 
marred  by  a  sad  mutilation.  The  world  whispers,  and  the 
heart  listens  to  the  suggestion,  that  there  is  no  need  for  so 
complete  a  separation,  or  for  so  evident  and  marked  a  union 
to  Jesus.  It  asks  liberty  to  destroy  those  locks  of  dedication; 
it  tempts  the  believer  himself  to  cut  them  off.  It  suggests 
that,  by  Christians  mingling  moi'e  with  the  world,  the  world 
will  be  n.iore  drawn  to  Christians  and  to  Christ;  it  hints  that 
there  may  be  secret  union  to  Jesus  without  tokens  so  visible 
and  so  offensive;  it  asks,  hath  God  indeed  said  that  'if  any 
man  be  the  friend  of  the  world  he  is  the  enemy  of  God'?  and 
afiirms,  that  God  knoweth  that  in  that  day  of  friendship  with 
the  world,  there  will  only  be  the  extension  of  peace  and  good- 
will between  God  and  man.  In  an  evil  hour  the  once  cher- 
ished symbol  is  cut  away,  the  token  of  union  to  Christ  is  de- 
stroyed, the  locks  are  gone, — and,  with  the  locks,  the  strength 
and  the  beauty  gone !  '  The  Nazarite,  whiter  than  snow,  is 
now  blacker  than  a  coal';  the  warrior,  swifter  than  the  moun- 
tain roe,  is  crippled  and  lame ;  the  once  more  than  conqueror 
in  Christ,  falls  helpless  into  the  hands  of  his  malignant  ene- 
mies, is  bound  with  the  cords  of  sin,  and  is  degraded  to  a 
poor  blind  slave  grinding  for  the  adversaries  of  God  and  man. 


272  THE   SPOTLESS   BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  2. 

'Thy  hair,  O  my  love,  was  as  a  flock  of  goats  that  appear 
from  Mount  Gilead ;  but  thou  hast  forsaken  the  Lord  thy  God 
when  he  led  thee  by  the  way;  the  children  of  Noph  and  Taha- 
panes  have  broken  the  crown  of  thy  head;  and  from  the 
daughter  of  Zion  all  her  beauty  is  departed!'  But  thy  Lord 
will  Mieal  thy  backslidings,  loving  freely';  he  will  'forgive 
thee  much,  and  thou  shalt  love  him  much' ;  thy  locks  will 
gather  strength  and  grow  anew,  and  thou  shalt  '  wash  his  feet 
afresh  with  thy  tears  and  wipe  them  again  with  the  hairs  of 
thy  head. '  But  'go  and  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing  happen 
unto  thee!' 

THE  SHEEP  FEOM  THE  RIVER. 

Thy  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep  that  are  even  shorn,  which 
came  up  from  the  washing;  whereof  every  one  bear  twins,  and 
none  is  barren  [^or  bereaved]  among  them. — There  could  not 
be  found  an  apter  comparison  to  describe  a  beautiful  set  of 
teeth  faultless  in  form,  in  color,  in  number.  The  flock  of  sheep 
even  shorn,  describes  their  perfect  symmetry  without  the  least 
unevenness  or  irregularity ;  their  coming  up  from  the  washing 
is  the  unspotted  whiteness  of  the  teeth  as  of  purest  wool ;  the 
twins  are  the  upper  and  under  teeth  in  exact  correspondence; 
and  the  absence  of  one  bereaved  or  barren  among  them  indi- 
cates that  in  these  double  rows  there  is  not  one  tooth  wanting 
or  lost. 

Thy  teeth  are  like  the  flock  so  white, 
Smooth  shorn,  and  bathed  in  streamlet  bright, 
A  shining  even  row. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

The  teeth  of  the  Bride  are  emblematic  oi  faith,  for  Christ 
says — 'Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  and  drink  the  blood  of  the  Son 
of  Man  ye  have  no  life  in  you ';  and  this  eating  is  by  faith,  for 
he  announces — 'I  am  the  bread  of  life,  he  that  cometh  to  me 
shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall  never 
thirst.'  The  natural  man  has  no  capacity  for  feeding  on 
Christ — he  has  no  teeth  wherewith  to  eat  that  bread  of  life. 
It  is  set  before  him  in  all  its  richness  in  the  Word  read  and 


CHAP.  IV.  3.  THE   SCARLET    FILLET.  273 

preached;  but  it  remains  untasted  and  unbroken,  and,  for  any 
nourishment  it  affords  him,  it  might  be  a  painted  stone  instead 
of  bread.  Other  teeth  he  has  for  other  food — the  tooth  of 
malice  and  the  tooth  of  envy  to  mangle  and  destroy  his  broth- 
er's peace,  or  his  neighbour's  good  name.  But  these  are  pre- 
paring only  sori'ow  for  himself,  for  'the  teeth  of  the  ungodly 
shall  be  broken' ;  and  in  the  outer  darkness  to  which  they 
haste  'shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth'  for  ever.  But 
'the  new  creature'  both  relishes  and  'eats  the  bread  that 
cometh  down  from  heaven' — 'I  found  thy  word  and  did  eat 
it,  and  it  was  to  me  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of  my  heart.'  In 
his  beautiful  teeth — his  precious  faith — are  found  at  once  the 
sure  symptom  and  the  certain  means  of  spiritual  health;  and 
when  these  are  strong  and  undecayed  the  whole  body  is  full 
of  life  and  beauty.  Faith  is  like  a  flock  of  sheep  feeding  on 
green  pastures  and  lacking  nothing.  Faith  is  like  a  flock  of 
sheep  ascending  from  the  river,  for  it  has  constant  reference 
to  'the  fountain  opened  for  sin  an^  uncleanness, '  and  is  never 
beautiful  except  it  be  'newly  come  up  from  the  washing.' 
Faith  is  'like  a  flock  of  sheep  all  twin-bearing,'  for  above  all 
things  faith  is  fruitful;  and  faith  in  the  soul  never  lacks  its 
twin  and  fellow  in  'the  word  of  promise,'  its  exact  counterpart 
and  image.  The  Bride  of  Jesus  is  rapidly  enriching  when 
she  possesses  and  retains  such  a  flock,  for  nothing  advances  so 
rapidly  as  faith  when  it  'groweth  exceedingly;'  nothing  brings 
to  the  soul  such  riches  of  every  grace  as  faith  when  it  'increas- 
eth,  according  to  the  increase  of  God' ;  and  never  is  the  Bride 
more  attractive  in  the  eyes  of 'the  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,' 
than  when  she  appears  before  him  with  such  'a  flock  newly 
washed  in  the  fountain.' 

THE   SCARLET    FILLET. 

TJiy  lips  are  like  a  thread  [or,  as  in  old  Bible,  fillet]  of  scarlet — 
the  lips  thread-like  in  the  fineness  of  their  form,  and  scarlet  in 
the  depth  and  purity  of  their  color.  Emblematically,  the  lip 
of  the  leper  is  the  constant  type  of  the  loathsomeness  of  sin. 
Tliat  lip  has  two  characteristic  features — it  is  swollen  and 


274  THE   SPOTLESS   BEIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  3. 

gross — it  Is  white  and  scurfy.  When  the  disease  has  spread 
so  far  as  to  deform  the  face^  the  sight  of  leprosy  is  deeply  im- 
pressive; once  seen  it  remains  long  in  the  memory,  and  no 
feature  in  the  defaced  countenance  is  more  revolting  or  more 
^  sadly  memorable  than  the  turgid  and  scaly  lip. 

By  the  Mosaic  law  the  leper  was  commanded  to  abide  with- 
out the  camp,  to  cover  his  upper  lip,  and  to  cry  Unclean! 
unclean  !  When  Isaiah  had  revealed  to  him  the  glorious,  yet 
awful  holiness  of  Jehovah,  he  cried,  'Woe  is  me!  for  I  am  a 
man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people  of 
unclean  lips';  and  he  found  no  relief  till  the  live  coal  taken 
with  the  tongs  from  off  the  altar  touched  his  lips,  taking  away 
his  iniquity,  and  forgiving  his  sin.  So  is  it  with  you,  O  sin- 
ner! leprous  from  head  to  foot,  yet  ignorant  of  your  sad  con- 
dition, or  glorying  in  it  with  great  swelling  words  of  vanity; 
till  the  Spirit  of  God  reveals  your  state.  You  hasten  now  to 
hide  yourself,  as  filled  with  a  loathsome  disease;  your  leprous 
lip  you  cover,  not  concealing  but  confessing  the  plague;  you 
lay  your  mouth  upon  the  dust,  purer  than  your  guilty  lips, 
and  cry,  unclean !  In  your  shame  you  have  not  been  driven 
without  the  camp,  but  your  own  feet  have  borne  you  thither 
among  the  lepers  and  the  unclean — alone  suitable  for  the 
defiled  soul.  '  Without  the  camp' — and  what  meets  you  there ? 
the  Holy  One  of  God  hanging  on  the  accursed  tree — Jesus 
'sufiering  without  the  gate' — on  Calvary,  the  place  of  dead 
men's  bones.  The  one  man  of  'pure  lip'  in  the  human  family, 
the  one  in  whose  lips  was  found  no  guile,  they  have  thrust 
out  as  leprous  from  the  holy  city,  crying — 'away  with  him!' 
He  is  'numbered  with  transgressors,'  and  you  have  found 
him';  or  rather  he  has  found  you,  and  told  you  that  he  is 
come  to  'cleanse  the  lepers.'  You  lift  upward  your  eye  to 
the  cross,  and  as  you  look,  the  red  blood  of  the  Lamb  with- 
out spot  drops  on  your  defiled  lips,  and  with  it  the  assur- 
ance— 'Thy  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  scarlet' — 'now  you  are 
clean  through  the  word  that  I  have  spoken.' 

The  accompanying  comeliness  of  speech  does  not  form  a 
separate  feature  of  beauty,  but  is  the  fit  fruit  of  the  scarlet 
lips.     Moscfe  complains  of '  uncircumcised  lips'  from  which  no 


CHAP.  IV.  3.  THE    BROKEN    POMEGUAXATE.  275 

comeliness  of  speech  could  flow;  but  God  will  not  hear  his 
objection,  because,  along  with  the  circumcision  of  the  heart 
without  hands,  he  pours  grace  into  the  lips  sufficient  for  everv 
occasion.  Excellent  speech  is,  indeed,  'not  comely  for  a  fool,' 
'and  the  fairest  language  of  fruitless  profession  is  only  "^the 
jewel  in  the  swine's  snout;'  but  when  'out  of  the  abundance  of 
the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,'  there  is  no  sweeter  music  in  the 
ear  of  the  heavenly  Bridegroom  than  'the  speech  that  is  with 
grace  seasoned  with  salt.'  Mark  how  he  promises  it  in  the 
pledge  that  'the  tongue  of  the  stammerer  shall  speak  plainly;' 
how  he  delights  in  it  when  he  gives  the  assurance — 'My  son  ! 
if  thy  lips  speak  right  things,  my  heart  shall  rejoice,  even 
mine';  and  how  he  rewards  it,  as  in  that  wrestling  mother  who 
dwells  'in  the  borders  of  Tyre  and  Sidon' — in  places  where 
both  language  and  morals  become  corrupt.  Her  heart  is  set 
on  having  the  devil  cast  out  of  her  daughter,  and  she  is  quick 
to  discover  the  hidden  presence  of  the  healer.  She  has  stron<>- 
faith  in  "his  love  and  power,  and  uses  urgent  importunity  for 
mercy;  but  it  is  'the  comeliness  of  her  speech'  that  pre- 
vails with,  and  overcomes  the  Lord.  'The  dogs  under  the 
table  eat  of  the  children's  crumbs ' — is  the  beautiful  speech  of 
unlettered  faith;  and  from  him  who  himself  spake  as  never 
man  spake,'  the  prompt  and  delighted  answer  comes — 'For  this 
saying  go  thy  way,  tiie  devil  is  gone  out  of  thy  daughter!' 
And  not  for  her  only,  but  for  every  virgin  follower  of  the 
Lamb,  was  the  promise  given, — 'I  will  turn  to  the  people  a 
pure  lip,  that  they  may  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  to 
serve  him  with  one  consent.' 


THE   BROKE>'   POMEGRANATE. 

Thy  iemjjles  are  like  a  piece  of  pomegranate  within  thy  loch,  or 
as  Wycliffe  renders  it  'as  the  breaking  of  a  pomecrranate  so  are 
thy  cheeks.'  The  pomegranate  or  grained  apple  cut  open  is 
bright  red  mingled  with  white.  The  temples,  or  forehead, 
are  in  Scripture  regarded  as  the  seat  of  shamefaceduess,  or  of 
boldness;  and  their  being  likened  to  the  redness  of  the  pome- 


276  THE    SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  3. 

granate,  prevailing  over  its  intermingled  whiteness,  aptly  de- 
scribes the  modesty  of  the  Bride ;  which  is  still  farther  en- 
hanced by  the  temples  being  'within  the  locks/  and  partially 
covered  by  their  flowing  tresses. 

Like  grained  pomegranate,  white  and  red, 
Thy  temples'  purpling  veins  are  spread. 
Above  thy  arching  brow. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

The  state  of  rebellious  man,  even  in  those  who  toward  their 
fellows  are  most  sensitively  modest,  presents  the  aspect  of  un- 
hallowed boldness  toward  God  above.  This  insolence  regarding 
Him  who  dwelleth  in  the  heavens  is  universal,  and  his  own 
testimony  is  that  'all  the  house  of  Israel  are  impudent  and 
hard-hearted,'  or  that  they  are  'stiff  of  forehead  and  hard  of 
heart.'  Thy  brow  is  brass,  is  the  humiliating  truth  addressed 
to  every  child  of  apostate  Adam  ;  and  this  brazenness  of  brow 
has  reached  the  utmost  limit  of  depravity,  Jchoval*  himself 
being  witness  and  declaring  to  us  'thou  hadst  a  whore's  fore- 
head, thou  refusedst  to  be  ashamed.'  It  has  rendered  us  in- 
capable of  all  penitent  or  childlike  emotion  God  ward — '  were 
they  ashamed  when  they  liad  committed  abomination?  nay  they 
were  not  at  all  ashamed,  neither  could  they  blush.'  How 
lovely  to  Him  in  the  contrast  must  be  the  shamefacedness  of 
the  Bride  of  the  Lamb,  to  whom,  through  the  ransom  of  his 
blood,  God  has  granted  repentance  unto  life,  and  whose  tem- 
ples are  now  like  the  breaking  of  a  pomegranate  within  her 
locks!  Hers  is  now  the  holy  blushing  of  Ezra,  'O  my  God  ! 
I  am  ashamed  and  blush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee  my  God' — 
of  the  penitent  publican,  when  'he  stood  afar  off,  and  would 
not  so  much  as  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,'  but  from  his  smitten 
heart  sighed,  'God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  !' — of  the  whole 
house  of  Israel,  '  We  lie  down  in  our  shame  and  our  confusion 
covereth  us' — ^of  'the  woman  that  was  a  sinner,  who  wept 
much  because  she  was  forgiven  much' — of  the  accepted  believer 
who  'never  opens  his  mouth  any  more  because  of  his  shame, 
when  God  is  pacified  toward  him  for  all  that  he  has  done.' 


CIIAP.  IV.  4.  THE    TOWEP.    OF    APMOURY.  277 

This  breaking  of  the  pomegranate  is  in  beautiful  harmony, 
yet  in  marked  contrast,  with  'the  tower  of  David'  by  which 
the  next  feature  is  characterized.  The  blushing  temples,  and 
the  upright  neck,  are  mutually  becoming;  and  each  adds  grace 
to  the  other.  The  Avorld  discovers  neither — the  holy  liberty, 
the  neck  like  the  tower  of  David,  it  mistakes  for  the  brow  of 
brass,  for  unhallowed  boldness;  the  holy  sliame  it  looks  upon 
as  the  fettered  neck  of  the  crouching  slave.  But  'wisdom  is 
justified  of  all  her  children,'  and  Christ  will  be  'admired  in 
all  them  that  believe.' 


THE   TOWER   OF   ARMOURY. 

Thy  nech  is  like  the  tower  of  David,  builded  for  an  armoury, 
whereon  there  hang  a  thousand  bucklers,  all  shields  of  mighty 
men. — The  tower  of  David  is  not  expressly  known,  but  it  was 
evidently  distinguished  for  stateliness  and  strength,  as  well  as 
for  its  stores  both  of  arms  for  war  and  of  commemorative 
trophies  of  victory.  The  neck  of  the  bride  is  erect  and  stately 
like  this  lofty  tower;  and  the  chains  of  gold  and  precious  stones 
that  adorn  her  neck  resemble  the  costly  shields  and  warlike 
vreapons  which  ornament  its  walls. 

The  neck  has  a  manifold  significancy  in  Scripture,  varying 
according  to  its  attitudes  and  relations.  There  is  first,  the  stiff 
neck  of  unbroken  nature ;  the  neck  that  will  not  stoop  to  bear 
either  the  heavy  yoke  of  the  law,  or  the  easy  yoke  of  grace — 
'thy  neck  is  an  iron  sinew — stiff-necked,  always  resisting  the 
Holv  Ghost.'  This  'proud  and  stretched-out  neck'  of  the 
daughter  of  Zion  is  constantlv  mistaken  for  the  neck  of  tower- 
like  beauty,  which  so  becomes  the  Bride  of  Christ,  and  from 
which  it  is  the  furthest  extreme  of  contrast.  There  is  next, 
the  bowed  and  burdened  neck  of  legal  bondage.  Haughty 
child  of  Zion !  thy  spirit  of  lawless  liberty  has  been  exchanged 
for  the  spirit  of  bondage  and  fear — 'the  law  has  come,  sin  has 
revived,  and  thou  hast  died.'  The  yoke  is  now  upon  thy  neck, 
which  neither  we  nor  our  fathers  were  able  to  bear.  Bear  it 
thou  canst  not,  and  neither  canst  thou  break  it — 'the  yoke  of 


278  THE   SPOTLESS    BRIDE.  CHAP.  IV.  4. 

my  transgressions  is  bound  by  his  hand,  they  are  wreathed 
and  come  up  upon  my  neck;  he  hath  made  my  strength  to 
fall;  the  Lord  hath  delivered  me  into  their  hands,  from  whom 
I  am  not  able  to  rise  up.'  But  there  is  last,  the  tower-like 
neck  of  holy  liberty.  Till  his  word  comes,  the  word  of  the 
Lord  tries;  and  then  the  commandment  runs  swiftly — 'awake, 
awake!  shake  thyself  from  the  dust,  loose  thyself  from  the 
bands  of  thy  neck,  O  captive  daughter  of  Zion !'  What  thou 
canst  not  do  for  thyself,  thy  Lord  does  for  thee,  saying,  'I  was 
unto  thee  as  them  that  take  the  yoke  from  the  neck' — thy 
chains  break,  thy  burden  falls,  thou  standest  upright  and  free! 
Thy  neck  now,  O  daughter  of  Zion!  is  'like  the  tower  of 
David,'  erect  in  holy  freedom;  see  that  thou  'stand  fast  in  the 
liberty  wherewith  Christ  has  set  thee  free,  and  be  not  again 
entangled  with  the  yoke  of  bondage!' 

On  this  tower-like  neck  'there  hang  a  thousand  bucklers, 
all  of  them  shields  of  mighty  men.'  A  thousand  trophies  of 
victory  taken  from  the  vanquished  hosts  of  darkness,  and  'meet 
for  the  necks  of  them  that  take  the  spoil,'  grace  the  Bride  of 
Immanuel.  They  adorn  the  church  triumphant  above,  the 
church  militant  on  earth,  and  the  person  of  every  faithful 
soldier  of  the  Captain  of  Salvation.  'The  strong  man  armed 
lias  been  overcome  by  One  stronger  than  he,  and  spoiled  of  all 
his  armour  wherein  he  trusted';  and  Jesus  has  bestowed  it  as 
an  ornament  on  his  Bride.  Through  grace  thou  hast  also 
overcome,  O  believer!  'Satan  has  been  bruised  under  thy  feet,' 
and  the  sword  and  shield  of  Goliath  thou  hast  hung  up  before 
the  Lord  in  David's  tower.  A  thousand  memorials  of  divine 
help  hnng  beside  those  spoils  of  the  vanquished  enemy.  Once 
and  again  when  thou  hast  returned  more  than  conqueror,  thou 
iiast  liung  up  thine  arms  in  grateful  memorial  before  the  Lord 
of  hosts.  That  'helmet'  with  Avhich  'he  covered  thy  head  in 
the  battle ' — that  'breastplate'  against  which  the  polished  shaft 
was  shivered  in  pieces — that  'shield  which  quenched  the  liery 
darts  of  the  wicked' — that  '  sword'  which  '  turned  to  flight  the 
armies  of  the  aliens ' — these  thou  hast  hung  up  in  everlasting 
memorial  unto  the  God  of  thy  salvation.     But  there  hang  also 


CHAP.  IV.  5.  THE    TWIX    HOES.  279 

ill  this  armoury  'a  thousand  bucklers'  ready  for  a  thousaud 
battles — '  all  of  them  shields  of  the  mighty.'  New  conflicts 
of  faith  are  before  thee,  but  thou  needst  not  fear — thou  needst 
not  bow  thy  neck — thou  needst  not  crouch  before  Satan,  again 
to  become  his  slave.  Stand  fast  in  thy  liberty  from  the  world, 
from  sin,  from  the  law;  for  '  thy  neck  is  like  the  tower  of 
David  builded  for  an  armoury ' — thickly  clustered  with  thine 
enemies'  arms  taken  in  war,  with  thine  own  weapons  of  former 
battles,  and  with  a  thousand  bucklers  besides,  prepared  for  thee 
by  the  Lord  of  hosts  for  a  thousand  future  triumphs. 


THE  TWIN   ROES. 

Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young  roes  that  are  tioins,  tch'ich 
feed  among  the  lilies. — 'We  did  not  see  here  any  flocks  feeding 
or  young  harts  leaping,  but  in  other  places  we  had  frequent 
occasion  to  notice  the  sheep  and  Iambs  browsing  on  the  like 
pastures,  among  but  not  on  the  lilies;  for  while  the  lily  furnishes 
no  acceptable  food  for  flocks  and  herds,  it  seems  by  the  shade 
of  its  high  broad  leaves  to  retain  the  moisture,  and  so  to  nourish 
herbage  wherever  it  grows.  The  place  of  lilies  would  thus 
be  the  place  of  richest  pasture,  as  Solomon  evidently  indicates 
when,  using  the  figure,  he  speaks  of,  "the  young  roes  which 
feed  among  the  lilies."  Tliey  grew  in  almost  incredible  num- 
bers and  luxuriance'  (Bonar).  The  lilies  among  which  the 
roes  feed  seem  to  represent  the  white  or  lily-coloured  part  of 
the  Bride's  dress  with  which  the  breasts  were  adorned.  'Girt 
about  the  paps  with  a  golden  girdle'  is  the  great  Bridegroom 
of  the  Church;  the  Queen's  robe  'of  gold  of  Ophir'  is  en- 
circled '  with  a  raiment' — probably  a  girdle — 'of  needle-work,' 
and  such  a  girdle  these  lilies  appear  to  represent. 

The  twin  roes  among  the  lilies  have  been  interpreted  by  the 
Jews  of  the  two  tables  of  the  law;  by  some  of  the  Christian 
Fathers  (to  the  same  effect)  of  love  to  God  and  our  neighbor ; 
and  less  suitably  but  more  commonly,  of  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
taments.   Without  gainsaying  these  interpretations,  we  venture 


280  THE  SPOTLESS   BEIDE.  .  CHAP.  IV.  5. 

to  think  that  Scripture  affords  a  more  direct  explanation  of  the 
emblem.  The  Church  is  by  Solomon  set  forth  as  'a  bride  adorned 
for  her  husband/  and  her  breasts  beneath  the  bridal  attire  are 
described  as  double — as  if  this  were  their  most  marked  charac- 
teristic. The  believer  is  more  than  once  described  by  Paul  as 
clothed  in  spiritual  armour ;  and  as  in  the  bride's  dress  with 
Solomon,  so  in  the  soldier's  defensive  armour  with  Paul, 
the  breastplate  alone  is  described  as  double — in  evident  allu- 
sion to  the  two  breasts  of  the  warrior  shown  also  in  the  breast- 
plate. We  have  therefore  the  key  furnished  by  the  word  itself 
in  the  divine  command, — 'putting  on  the  breastplate  of  faith 
and  love.'  Faith  and  love  are  the  mailed  breasts  of  the  soldier 
of  Jesus ;  faith  and  love  are  the  '  twin  roes '  of  the  bride  of 
Jesus.  'Blessed  are  the  paps  which  thou  hast  sucked — yea 
rather  blessed  are  they  that  hear  the  word  of  God  and  keep 
it!' — that  hear  with  the  ear  of  faith,  and  keep  with  the  heart 
of  love.  These  twins  are  elsewhere  called  'faith  working  by 
love;'  and  'faith  and  a  good  conscience' — for  the  keeping  of 
the  law  is  love.  Faith  without  love  is  hypocrisy,  love  with- 
out faith  is  legality;  either  without  the  other  is  dead,  and 
either  cherished  to  the  injury  of  the  other  is  nourished  to  its 
own  hurt.  They  are  '  roes  that  feed  among  the  lilies,'  finding 
no  pasture  either  amongst  the  thorns  of  the  world  which  choke 
the  green  pastures  of  the  word,  or  amongst  the  barren  and 
prickly  briars  of  contention  and  strife.  These  two  are  '  twins' 
— born  together,  feeding  together,  growing  together,  beautiful 
together.  If  either  should  seem  to  increase  without  the  other, 
its  solitude  would  mark  it  as  an  offense,  and  no  longer  an 
ornament.  If  either  sickens  the  other  pines  along  with  it,  if 
either  is  injured  the  other  suffers  the  same  Avound,  if  either 
dies  the  other  cannot  live — '  Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young 
roes  that  are  twins,  which  feed  among  the  lilies.' 

'Thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there  is  no  spot  in  thee.'  If, 
O  believer!  thine  eyes  are  toward  the  Lord  discerning  and 
desiring  him — if  the  locks  of  thy  consecration  are  like  a  flock 
of  goats,  and  shorn  by  no  tempter's  hand — if  thy  faith  is  un- 
decayed  like  a  set  of  perfect  teeth — if  thy  conscience  is  cleansed 


CHAP.  IV.  5.  THE    TWIN    ROES.  281 

from  dead  works  like  leprous  lips  transformed  into  a  thread 
of  scarlet — if  thy  repentance  unto  life  has  changed  the  brow 
of  brass  into  the  blushing  pomegranate  within  thy  locks — if 
holy  liberty  renders  thy  once  burdened  neck  erect  like  the 
tower  of  David,  and  if  like  twin  roes  feeding  among  the  lilies 
are  thy  faith  and  love — then  notwithstanding  innumerable 
sins  thy  Lord  assureth  thee,  'Thou  art  all  fair,  my  love,  there 
is  no  spot  in  thee!' 


282  THE  BRIDAL   EVENING.      CHAP.  IV.  8-V.  1. 


XV. 

THE  BEIDAL  EVENING. 

THE  BRIDEGEOOM'S  FAREWELL— THE  GARDEN  OF 
SPICES— THE  SPICES  OF  THE  GARDEN— THE  BE- 
TROTHING SUPPER. 

Come  with  me  from  Lebanon,  my  spouse,  with  me  from  Lebanon  :  look 
from  the  top  of  Amana,  from  the  top  of  Sheuir  and  Hermon,  from  the 
lions'  dens,  from  the  mountains  of  the  leopards.  Thou  hast  ravished  my 
heart,  my  sister,  my  spouse ;  thou  hast  ravished  my  heart  with  one  of 
thine  eyes,  with  one  chain  of  thy  neck.  How  fair  is  thy  love,  my  sister, 
my  spouse!  how  much  better  is  thy  love  than  Avine!  and  the  smell 
of  thine  ointments  than  all  spices !  Thy  lips,  O  my  spouse,  drop  as  the 
honey-comb:  honey  and  milk  are  under  thy  tongue;  and  the  smell  of 
thy  garments  is  like  the  smell  of  Lebanon.  A  garden  enclosed  is  my 
sister  my  spouse ;  a  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed.  Thy  plants  are 
an  orchard  of  pomegranates,  with  pleasant  fruits;  camphire  with  spike- 
nard ;  spikenard  and  saffron ;  calamus  and  cinnamon,  with  all  trees  of 
frankincense;  myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices:  a  fountain  of 
gardens,  a  well  of  living  waters,  and  streams  from  Lebanon.  Awake,  O 
north  wind  ;  and  come,  thou  south !  blow  upon  my  garden,  that  the  spices 
thereof  may  flow  out.  Let  my  beloved  come  into  his  garden,  and  eat  his 
pleasant  fruits.  I  am  come  into  my  garden,  my  sister,  my  spouse :  I  have 
gathered  my  myrrh  with  my  spice ;  I  have  eaten  my  honey-comb  with 
my  honey ;  I  have  drunk  my  wine  with  my  milk :  eat  0  friends ;  drink, 
yea,  drink  abundantly,  O  beloved ! — Chap.  iv.  8-v.  1. 

THE   bridegroom's      FAREWELL. 

Until  the  day  hreah,  and  the  shadows  fice  away,  I  will  get  me 
to  the  mountain  of  myrrh,  and  to  the  hill  of  frankincense.  Thou 
art  all  fair,  my  love:  there  is  no  spot  in  thee.  Come  with  me 
from  Lebanon. — Although  for  the  sake  of  distinctness  we  ha  ve 
deferred  till  now  the  consideration  of  the  sixth  verse,  yet  muclj^ 
of  the  beauty  of  the  passage  consists  in  its  connexion.  The 
King  having  passed  the  day  with  the  Bride,  and  having  ex-  > 
tolled  her  spotless  comeliness,  intimates  that  the  night  is  ap- 


CHAP.  IV.  G-8.    t:ie  erideghoom's  farewell.  283 

proaching,  and  that  he  must  leave  her  and  retire  to  his  own 
resting-phice  in  the  mountain  of  myrrh  till  the  morning.  He 
has  betrothed  her  to  himself*  but  all  things  are  not  yet  ready 
for  the  marriage,  nor  can  he  now  take  her  home  to  his  Father's 
house  because  he  has  not  yet  '  prepared  a  place  for  her.'  She 
discerns  no  symptoms  of  sunset,  but  his  watchful  heart  fore- 
warns her  that  it  is  near;  and  after  having  given  the  intima- 
tion, he  more  than  repeats  all  his  praise — 'Thou  art  all  fair, 
my  love,  there  is  no  spot  in  thee.'  It  is  the  assurance  that 
his  departure  is  occasioned  by  no  want  of  kindness  toward  her, 
but  that  he  departs  in  love,  as  in  love  he  had  come.  He  then 
invites  her  to  look  from  Lebanon  on  the  fair  garden  he  has 
provided  for  her,  enters  it  along  with  her,  and  ere  he  goes 
partakes  with  her  of  a  bridal  or  betrothing  supper  in  pledge 
of  his  return  to  take  her  home. 

By  the  literal  interpreters  of  the  Song  a  regular  succession 
of  days,  of  mornings  and  nights,  has  been  found  or  rather  has 
been  fancied,  for  it  exists  not  in  the  book  but  in  an  inventive 
imagination.  There  are  two  distinct  nights  in  the  narrative, 
and  expressly  called  nights;  in  the  whole  allegory  there  is  no 
third  night  introduced;  and  the  space  intervening  between  the 
tvv^o  nights  is  of  necessity  day.  There  is  also  by  implication, 
as  well  as  by  allusion,  a  morning  following  the  second  night, 
and  by  implication  likewise  a  night  succeeding' that  morning; 
but  neither  has  that  morning  the  brightness  of  the  previous 
day,  nor  that  night  the  darkness  of  the  night  preceding.  So 
also  in  the  first  part  of  the  Song,  altogether  there  are  various 
transactions  that  must  have  occupied  considerable  portions  of 
time,  but  that  time  is  not  distinguished  into  day  and  night ; 
and  we  only  create  confusion  by  introducing  our  own  concep- 
tions. Properly  and  peculiarly  there  is  only  one  day  in  the 
entire  Song,  ijicluded  between  two  nights,  and  the  second  night 
much  darker  than  the  first.  That  day,  cloudless  from  morning 
till  evening,  shines  on  the  whole  narrative  of  the  Third  Cant- 
icle. 

'xVs  long  as  I  am  in  the  world,'  said  Jesus,  'I  am  the  light 
of  the  world.'  Immediately  before  his  appearing,  the  dark- 
ness of  all  the  Church's  preceding  history  is  represented  by 


284  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  IV.  6-8. 

night;  and  the  darkness  that  follows  during  his  crucifixion  is 
much  deeper  and  more  awful.  Throughout  the  Song  the 
King's  presence  is  morning  and  day,  and  his  absence  is  night; 
corresponding  to  the  word  and  act  of  Jesus, — 'yet  a  little  while 
the  light  is  with  you ;  and  he  departed  and  did  hide  himself 
from  them.'  Before  leaving  earth  he  commands  his  disciples 
to  show  forth  his  death  till  he  come  again,  because  only  at  his 
second  coming  will  there  again  be  fullness  of  light.  The  re- 
surrection of  Jesus,  however  glorious,  was  neither  the  abiding 
nor  the  full  return  of  the  Lord ;  for  he  was  not  seen  by  the 
Church  in  general,  and  his  intercourse  with  his  more  imme- 
diate disciples  was  only  in  transient  interviews.  At  the  same 
time,  the  resurrection  was  the  dawn  of  bright  morning  both 
to  himself  and  to  his  Church ;  and  of  it  in  the  first  instance 
must  be  interpreted  the  breaking  of  day  in  these  words,  'un- 
til the  day  break  I  will  get  me  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh ;' 

That  Gardeu  in  the  Holy  Mount, 

Where  I  design  three  nights  to  lie, 

In  spices  wrapt,  as  prophets  shall  recount. —  Woodford. 

It  was  the  first  full  rest  for  the  Man  of  Sorrows  from  the  day 
of  his  birth ;  it  was  to  repose  with  the  rich  in  his  death,  em- 
balmed in  royal  abundance  of  myrrh  and  spices.  Labor  was 
then  to  be  over  and  rest  begun;  the  depth  of  humiliation  past, 
and  honor  conferred.  Jesus  told  his  disciples  of  the  'coming 
night ;'  and  looked  forward  with  desire  to  his  rest  in  the  grave, 
with  his  soul  in  Paradise,  as  the  commencement  of  'the  joy 
set  before  him.' 

Till  the  day  dawn,  my  love,  the  bridal  day. 

For  which  thou,  less  than  I,  dost  long ; 
Till  the  night-shadows  swiftly  flee  away, 

A  while  I'll  leave  thee,  a  little  while  be  gone ; 
To  the  hills  of  myrrh,  and  frankincense  I'll  go. 
And  fetch  the  morning  as  it  'gins  to  blow  : 
Yet  ah !  I  cannot  leave  thee,  love,  thus  soon ; 

My  love  thus  soon  I  cannot  leave, 
Eather  a  while,  my  love,  let  us  hand  in  hand. 

To  Liban  walk  and  Amana, 
Shenir  and  Hermou,  which  large  views  command. 

Woodford. 


CHAP.  IV.  8.        THE  bridegroom's  farewell.  285 

Come  with  me  from  Lebanon,  my  spouse,  with  me  from  Leba- 
non; look  from  the  top  of  Amana,from  the  top  of  Shenir  and 
Hennon,  from  the  lions'  dens,  from  the  mountains  of  the  leopards. 
— The  reference  in  Israel's  history  is  to  the  promised  hind  as 
the  garden  of  the  Lord  set  before  them  in  its  beauty,  with  in- 
vitation to  enter  and  possess  it;  and  the  call  'come  with  me 
from  Lebanon'  is  probably  in  allusion  to  Moses  being  taken 
to  the  top  of  Pisgah,  that  he  might  '  look  as  from  Shenir  and 
Amana'  on  Israel's  heritage  beyond  the  Jordan.  So  in  the 
earthly  history  of  Jesus,  while  the  deep  waters  of  the  Jordan 
still  rolled  their  dark  floods  between  him  and  the  possession 
of  the  promises  for  his  j)eople,  he  takes  three  of  his  disciples 
'into  an  high  mountain  apart,'  and,  as  'from  the  top  of  Araa- 
na,'  they  see  his  glory.  He  begins  to  tell  them  of  his  depar- 
ture, but  not  without  inviting  them  to  accompany  or  to  follow 
him  into  glory — 'Come  with  me  from  Lebanon!'  He  'goes 
to  j)repare  a  place  for  them,'  with  the  promise  of  'returning 
again  to  receive  them  to  himself;  and  from  the  top  of  Lebanon 
he  gives  them  a  foresight  of  that  glory,  when  he  is  'trans- 
figured before  them' — taking  them  to  the  highest  summit  of 
earth,  and  bringing  down  the  glory  of  heaven  to  unveil  itself 
and  encompass  them  around. 

Now  also  it  is  that  the  King,  for  the  first  time,  calls  the 
Bride  his  Sister  and  his  Spouse,  or  his  Sister-Spouse ;  because 
ere  the  sun  has  gone  down,  which  already  begins  to  set,  he  is 
to  institute  the  bridal  supper  as  the  formal  and  sealing  pledge 
of  everlasting  union.  Sister  only  implies  that  oneness  of  na- 
ture, of  disposition,  and  of  rank,  which  is  necessary  to  consti- 
tute a  perfect  spouse.  For  this  end  the  Eternal  Word  con- 
descended to  assume  our  nature,  that  as  the  first  Adam,  so 
likewise  the  Second,  might  say,  'This  is  now  flesh  of  my  flesh 
and  bone  of  my  bone.'  And  it  is  toward  the  closing  scenes  of 
his  life  that  Jesus  begins  more  especially  to  'call  his  disciples 
not  servants  but  friends,'  and  to  reveal  to  them  the  fullness  of 
his  love  ere  he  leaves,  saying — 'Come  with  me  from  Lebanon, 
my  Sister,  my  Spouse!' 

This  is  an  invitation  to  the  Bride  to  leave  the  cold  heights 
of  Lebanon  and  its  dangerous  recesses.     The  call  is  similar 


286  THE   BEIDAL   EVENING.  CHAP.  IV.  9. 

ill  its  import  to  that  of  the  forty-lifth  Psalm — 'Hearken,  O 
daughter!  and  consider,  forget  thine  own  people  and  thy  father's 
house,  so  shall  the  King  greatly  desire  thy  beauty.'  Lebanon 
is  the  border  mountain  between  the  hostile  kingdoms  without, 
and  the  promised  land  within ;  high  for  earth,  but  too  low  lor 
heaven ;  the  confine  between  the  kingdom  of  this  world  and 
the  kingdom  of  grace.  The  Bride  of  Christ  has  turned  her 
back  on  the  world  and  set  her  face,  toward  Zion;  she  has  la- 
boriously gained  the  summit  of  the  intervening  hills,  and  he 
invites  her  to  look  on  the  riches  and  beauty  of  the  land  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey.  He  warns  her  that  there  is  no 
safety, in  the  borders  between  the  two  kingdoms  of  darkness 
and  of  light,  of  the  world  and  of  heaven — that  there  specially 
are  the  haunts  of  the  roaring  lion  who  seeketh  to  devour,  and 
who  unites  the  deceitful  beauty  with  the  swiftness  and  the 
cruelty  of  the  leopard. 

Such  an  invitation  is  given  at  the  first  conversion  of  the 
heart  to  God,  needed  then  and  serviceable;  but  too  needful 
and  very  serviceable  throughout  the  entire  pilgrimage,  which 
is  a  continued  looking  from  Ainana,  coming  from  Lebanon, 
and  leaving  of  the  lions'  dens.  It  is  a  kindred  invitation  at 
death  to  enter  the  garden  enclosed,  the  paradise  above;  quitting 
then  this  earth  which  is  but  a  border  land  betw^een  hell  and 
heaven,  and  in  all  its  paths  infested  by  every  fierce  and  raven- 
ous beast.  So  with  Stephen — Jesus  appears,  to  conduct  and 
welcome  him  home  from  the  den  of  devouring  lions  around 
him,  and  causes  his  countenance  to  shine  with  heavenly  lustre, 
while,  leaving  earth  beneath  him,  he  'looks  from  the  top  of 
Amana  and  Shenir '  to  the  better  country  above. 

Thou  had  ravished  my  heart,  my  sister,  my  spouse;  thou  hast 
ravished  my  heart  with  one  of  thine  eyes,  with  one  chain  of  thy 
neck. — The  King,  departing  for  a  season  to  the  mountain  of 
myrrh,  is  overcome  by  the  earnest  look  of  his  betrothed  spouse. 
\Vhen  he  has  already  turned  to  leave,  he  is  detained  and  held 
as  '  by  one  of  her  eyes  and  one  chain  of  her  neck';  and  declares 
that  he  values  her  love  far  above  all  earthly  delights;  as  his 
love  likewise  had  been  estimated  by  her.  This  presents  a  ' 
vivid  picture  of  the  character  of  the  intercourse  that  is  main- 


CHAP.  IV.   10,  11.       THE    bridegroom's    FAREWELL.  287 

tained  between  Christ  and  the  soul  that  cleaves  to  him.  He 
is  sometimes  detained  by  the  intense  entreaty  of  the  Avhole 
heart — 'I  will  not  let  thee  go';  but  oft  when  the  present  in- 
terview has  been  ended  so  far  as  regards  express  supplica- 
tion, he  returns  of  his  own  free  grace,  saying,  'Thou  hast 
ravished  my  heart,  my  sister,  ray  spouse — thou  hast  ravished 
my  heart  with  one  of  thine  eyes,  with  one  chain  of  thy  neck.' 

How  fair  is  thy  love,  my  sister,  my  spouse!  how  much  better  is 
thy  love  titan  wine! — than  the  choicest  luxuries  or  the  most  re- 
viving cordials  that  earth  can  furnish.  Christ,  who  was  ever 
exerting  his  miraculous  powers  for  the  relief  of  the  needy,'only 
once  put  forth  those  powers  for  the  production  of  a  luxury; 
that  luxury  was  wine,  the  richest  of  earthly  delicacies,  and  wine 
more  delicious  than  the  produce  of  earthly  vineyards.  His 
design  was  to  '  manifest  forth  his  glory '  at  the  marriage  feast 
■ — giving  to  the  assembled  guests  'the  good  wine  kept  till  now,' 
but  saying  to  his  own  Bride — '  how  much  better  is  thy  love 
than  wine!'  'The  Son  of  Man,'  said  he,  'is  come  eatiu"-  and 
drinking,  and  ye  say,  Behold  a  gluttonous  man  and  a  wine- 
bibber';  and  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  sat  down  to  meat 
with  Simon  the  Pharisee.  Amidst  the  costly  viands  and  the 
wine  sparkling  in  the  cup,  his  attention  was  riveted  all  the 
while  with  the  contrite  love  of  'the  woman  which  was  a  sin- 
ner'; his  chief  joy  at  the  feast  was  to  be  enabled  to  testify  that 
'she  loved  much;'  and  the  language  of  his  heart  to  the  weep- 
ing penitent  was — 'How  much  better  is  thy  love  than  wine!' 
— than  this  banquet  with  all  its  luxuries !  At  the  well  of 
Sychar  Jesus  sat  weary  and  athirst,  needing  as  a  reviving  cor- 
dial that  wine  which  he  had  freely  given  to  others  as  a  luxury, 
yet  refused  a  cup  of  cold  water ;  and  by  the  penitent  love  of 
a  newly-redeemed  soiil  he  was  soon  more  refreshed  than  bv 
wine — 'I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye  know  not  of.' — 'The  smell 
of  the  ointments  and  the  smell  of  the  garments'  in  this  and 
the  succeeding  verse,  we  shall  consider  in  the  'Garden  of  Spices.' 

Thy  lij^s,  O  my  spouse,  drop  as  the  honeycomb;  honey  and  milk 
are  under  thy  tongue. — Bride  of  Christ!  a  little  while  ao-o  'the 
poison  of  asps  was  under  thy  lips  and  thy  mouth  was  full  of 
bitterness.'     If  it  was  sweet  to  others,  it  was  bitter  to  him 


288  THE    BRIDAL    EVEXIXG.  CHAP.  IV.  11. 

that  loved  thee  and  gave  himself  for  thee;  and  its  honeyed 
accents  to  present  friends  were  often  little  else  than  the  words 
of  a  'tongue  using  deceit' — too  easily  followed  by  the  dropjDings 
of  the  gall  and  wormwood  that  lay  at  the  root.  But,  through 
grace,  thou  hast  drunk  '  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word '  as  a  new- 
born babe;  thou  'hast  found  honey,  and  the  honeycomb  has 
been  sweet  to  thy  taste,  in  the  statutes  of  the  Lord  which  re- 
joice the  heart';  and  now,  by  the  word  of  Christ  abiding  in 
thee,  'Honey  and  milk  are  under  thy  tongue,  and  thy  lips 
drop  as  the  honeycomb.' 

For  further  illustration  of  the  passage  throughout,  let  us 
turn  to  the  dying  thief  redeemed  out  of  the  jaws  of  death  and 
hell,  who  represents  in  so  lively  a  type  the  whole  Church  of 
the  living  God,  the  Bride  the  Lamb's  wife.  'Deliver  my  soul 
from  the  sword,  my  darling  from  the  power  of  the  dog!  save 
me  from  the  lion's  mouth !' — was  the  cry  of  the  great  sufferer 
for  himself  and  his  Church;  and  straightway  he  added,  'thou 
hast  heard  me  from  the  horns  of  the  unicorns.'  In  that  hour 
there  hung  beside  him  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  burning, 
one  of  'the  great  company  that  no  man  can  number'  which 
constitutes  'the  Lamb's  wife';  and  how  appropriate  toward 
him  were  the  words — 'Come  with  me  from  Lebanon,  my 
spouse!  look  from  the  top  of  Amana,  from  the  lions'  dens, 
from  the  mountains  of  the  leopards.'  'A  Garden  enclosed,  my 
Sister,  my  Spouse,'  and  into  the  garden  of  God  the  ransomed 
Bride  was  that  same  day  to  enter — '  to-day  shalt  thou  be  with 
me  in  Paradise'!  an  earnest  of  all  the  Church,  from  that  hour 
till  this,  saved  from  the  lion's  mouth.  'Thou  hast  ravished 
my  heart,  my  sister,  my  spouse,  with  one  of  thine  eyes,  with 
one  chain  of  thy  neck ;'  hanging  together  on  the  accursed  tree, 
it  was  literally  with  but  one  of  the  eyes  that  Christ  could  be 
looked  upon  by  the  dying  believer;  and  such  a  sidelong  glance 
affords  a  lively  emblem  of  the  limited  and  partial  beholding 
of  the  Lamb  by  the  visible  Church,  till  she  shall  see  him  face 
to  face  in  glory.  'Honey  and  milk  are  now  under  the  tongue' 
which,  an  hour  before,  had  b^en  full  of  cursing  and  bitterness; 
and  when  'they  give  Him  gall  for  his  meat  and  vinegar  for 
his  thirst,'  the  lips  of  the  newly-betrothed  soul  are  'dropping 


CHAP.  IV.  12,  13,  15.  .  THE   bridegroom's   FArvi:WELL.      289 

like  a  honeycomb'  sweetest  words  of  truth,  meekness,  peni- 
tence, faith,  hope,  and  love.  It  was  'the  hour  and  the  power 
of  darkness,'  and  the  dense  smoke  of  the  bottomless  pit  was 
rising  around  the  Holy  sufferer;  but  the  fragrant  incense  that 
ascended  from  that  grateful  heart  was  more  welcome  and  re- 
freshing than  the  choicest  perfumes — 'How  much  better  is  the 
smell  of  thine  ointments  than  all  spices!'  Finally,  under  the 
heavy  hand  of  his  Father's  wrath  it  was  not  the  will  of  the 
Father  nor  his  own,  that  he  should  be  so  supported  as  to  im- 
pair the  truth  that  'it  pleased  the  Father  to  bruise  him';  and 
it  would  seem  that  the  brightest  ray  of  comfort  that  shone 
upon  him  was  the  love  of  this  penitent  soul  in  the  time  of  es- 
pousals. Words  of  kindness  he  spoke  to  others,  words  of 
entreaty  in  others'  behalf,  words  of  sorest  agony,  and  then  of 
calmest  resignation;  but  in  the  seven  utterances  of  those  dark 
hours,  there  is  one  distinguished  from  all  the  rest  by  its  bright 
anticipation  of  the  joy  set  before  him.  It  was  as  if  a  cheer- 
ing wine-cup  had  been  raised  to  his  lips  and  presented  to  him 
when  'crucified  in  weakness;'  and  this  wine-cup  was  the  love 
of  a  ransomed  soul — 'Lord  remember  me  when  thou  comest 
into  thy  kingdom  ! — To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  mc  in  Paradise.' 
'A  garden  enclosed'  in  heaven  was  awaiting  'his  sister,  his 
spouse,'  and  he  gave  assurance  of  safe  and  immediate  entrance 
into  Paradise  along  with  himself;  Jesus  himself  was  to  bo 
there  also  on  the  bright  evening  of  that  darkest  day;  it  was 
'the  joy  set  before  him'  causing  him  for  a  moment  to  foi^get 
the  anguish.  Such  a  gleam  of  gladness  no  cup  of  earthly  wine 
could  ever  have  ministered;  and  to  the  dying  sinner,  now  the 
living  bride,  the  heart  of  the  suffering  Saviour  says — 'How 
much  better  is  thy  love  tlian  wine!'  Believer!  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;  and  thy  love  is  as 
precious  to  him  as  the  love  of  the  penitent  who  bled  beside 
him  on  the  tree. 

THE  GAEDEN  OF  SPICES. 

A  garden  enclosed  (is)  my  sister,  my  spouse;  a  spring  shut  up, 
a  fountain  sealed.  Thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of  pomegranates 
with  pleasant  fruits;    a  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of  living 


290  THE    BUIDAL    EVENING.       CHAP.  IV.  12^  13,15. 

waters,  and  streams  from  Lebanon — or  as  it  ouglit  rather  to  be 
rendered  without  addition,  'A  garden  enclosed,  my  Sister,  my 
Spouse';  or  as  in  our  oklest  English  Bible  'a  closed  garden, 
my  sister,  spouse.'  The  national  historic  reference  is  to  the 
promised  land,  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  a  land 
abounding  with  fountains  and  streams,  rich  with  all  variety  of 
fruitful  trees,  famous  of  old  for  its  balm  and  its  spices,  the 
glory  of  all  lands.  In  all  its  beauty  it  could  be  overseen  from 
the  heights  of  Lebanon,  or  by  Moses  from  the  top  of  Pisgah, 
'Now  we  are  in  the  holy  land,  confined  on  the  north  w^ith  the 
mountaines  of  Libanus — a  land  that  flowed  with  milkc  and 
hony,  in  the  middest  as  it  were  of  the  habitable  world,  and 
under  a  temperate  clime,  adorned  with  beautiful  mountaines 
and  luxurious  vallies,  the  rockes  producing  excellent  waters, 
and  no  part  empty  of  delight  or  profit;  watered  by  many 
springs  and  torrents;  the  soyle  about  the  Jordan  of  so  admira- 
ble a  nature  that  fruits  which  are  only  proper  to  cold,  to  hot, 
and  to  temperate  countries,  there  jointly  thrive  with  a  like 
felicity'  (Sandys).  Leading  Israel  through  the  Red  Sea,  and 
trampling  over  the  horses  and  chariots  of  Pharaoh  (i.  9); 
bringing  their  nobles  to  eat  and  to  drink  in  the  presence  of 
God  (ii.  4);  calling  the  people  to  arise  and  come  away  when 
the  spies  brought  the  earnests  of  the  land  of  promise  (ii.  10, 
11);  the  Lord  now  invites  them  to  enter  that  'garden'  of  the 
earth  which  he  has  espied  and  prepared  for  them  (Wyclifle). 
He  goes  before  and  invites,  yet  Israel  enters  first ;  for  the  Ark 
of  the  Covenant  with  Jehovah's  presence  tarries  in  the  Jordan 
till  all  Israel  lias  passed  over.  Having  entered  this  garden, 
they  now  say  '  Let  my  Beloved  come  into  his  garden  and  eat 
his  pleasant  fruits!'  He  follows  them  immediately,  calls  them 
to  partake  of  the  ripe  fruits  of  the  land,  and  discontinues  their 
wilderness  supply  of  manna,  now  that  they  have  begun  to  eat 
abundantly  of  the  produce  of  his  garden — of  this  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey,  fragrant  with  the  balm  of  Gilead,  rich 
with  the  grapes  of  Eshcol,  and  abounding  in  all  pleasant  fruits. 
The  garden  which,  outwardly,  was  the  country  of  Israel — 
the  promised  land  with  vineyards  ready  planted  and  wells 
ready  dug — is,  spiritually,  'the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  the  true 


CHAP.  IV.  12,  13,  15.       THE    GARDEN    OF    SPICES.  291 

land  of  promise,  the  rich  kingdom  of  grace.  Into  this  king- 
dom the  Bride  is  invited  to  come,  invited  already  when  'the 
flowers  were  appearing  with  the  tender  grape,'  and  inv  ited 
again  when  all  its  fruits  are  ripe. 

As  we  have  noted  in  the  summary,  the  garden  is  four  times 
described  in  the  Song,  and  that  which   marks    the  present 
description  is  the  ripeness  of  all  its  products  (p.  41).     Jesus 
has  now  *  finished  the  work  the  Father  gave  him  to  do;'  there 
is  no  bud  to  open  now,  no  flower  to  knit  into  fruit,  no  tender 
grape  to  ripen ;  all  is  ripe,  al]  fit  for  the  great  husbandman  to 
gather — 'an  orchard  of  pomegranates  with  pleasant  fruits.'  In 
the  infancy  of  Jesus,  it  was  the  wine  in  the  tender  grape;  it 
is  now,  'I  am  the  true  vine,'  with  its  pleasant  fruit  pressed  for 
the  bride's  wine-cup.     The  Bridegroom  never  calls  the  gar- 
den hers  but  his  own;  the  Bride  never  calls  the  garden  hers 
but  always  liis ;  for  'the  kingdom  is  the  Lord's,'  his  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  and  the  kingdom  of  grace ;  yet  the  trees  of  the 
garden  he  calls  'thy  plants,'  for  all  that  belongs  to  him  is  hers; 
for  her  they  were  expressly  provided,  and  on  her   freely  be- 
stowed.    And  as  in  the  garden  of  flowers,  where  Jesus  is  him- 
self the  vine  with  the  tender  grape,  there  are  also  springing 
up  around,  many  trees  of  righteousness,  which  are  to  be  watched 
'lest  the  foxes  spoil  them';  so  Jesus,  now  saying  I   am  the 
vine,  adds,  'ye  are  the  branches,  herein  is  my  Father  glorified 
that  ye  bear  much  fruit.'     It  is  not  as  if  the  vine  were  im- 
perfect in  itself — as  if  root  and  stem  and  branch  were  not  found 
in  Christ  himself;  for  he  also  is  first  of  all  the  branches,  'the 
Branch  which  the  Lord  has  made  sti'ong  for  himself,  that  in 
all  things  he  might  have  the  pre-eminence.'     But  when  Jesus 
has  left  the  earth,  his  people  are  the  visible  branches  of  the 
invisible  root;  all  the  pleasant  fruit  which  the  vine  now  bears 
is  through  them  as  its  branches,  and  'herein  is  the  Father 
now  glorified  that  they  bear  much  fruit.'     All  the  holy  fruit 
they  bear,  of  love,  and  truth,  and  wisdom,  is  pleasant  fruit  to 
Christ,  pleasant  fruit  to  the  Father,  pleasant  fruit  of  the  Spirit 
— 'thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of  pomegranates  and  pleasant 
fruits.'     It  is  only  by  the  fruit-bearing  of  the  branches  now, 
that  the  fruitfulness  of  the  root  can  by  evidenced — for  it  is 
s 


292  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.       CHAP.  IV.   1 2,  ]  3,  1 5. 

Christ  bearing  fruit  through  us.  Men  will  judge  of  the  un- 
seen Christ  by  the  seen  and  tasted  fruit  of  his  acknowledged 
branches — see  that  the  fruit  be  abundant! — see  that  it  be  pleas- 
ant!— and  remember  that  'without  him  ye  can  do  nothing'; 
that  'as  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  except  it  abide  in  the 
vine,  no  more  can  ye  except  ye  abide  in  Christ !' 

'A  garden  enclosed.'  Within  the  one  great  garden  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  two  gardens  special  and  memorable,  were 
before  the  Lord  Jesus — the  garden  of  Gethsemaue  and  the 
garden  of  the  Sepulchre.  In  a  garden  of  light  and  peace  the 
first  man  was  overcome  and  fell,  and  we  sinned  in  him  and  fell 
with  him  in  that  first  transgression;  in  a  garden  of  darkness 
and  sorrow  the  Second  Itlan  overcame,  by  strong  crying  and 
tears  obtaining  eternal  redemption  for  his  people.  But  the 
reference  is  specially  to  the  garden  of  the  tomb,  Hhe  moun- 
tain of  myrrh  and  hill  of  frankincense'  where  Jesus  was  to 
repose  embalmed  in  spices.  '  In  the  place  where  they  crucified 
him  there  was  a  garden,  and  in  the  garden  a  new  sepulchre 
v/herein  was  never  man  yet  laid.'  On  the  open  hill  of  Calvary 
Jesus  was  crucified,  'a  spectacle  to  the  world,  to  angels,  to 
men.'  But  'nigh  at  hand'  was  the  garden  of  the  rich  Joseph 
of  Arimathea — not  a  place  of  dead  men's  bones,  but  a  garden 
enclosed,  and  adorned  with  pleasant  plants ;  as  may  be  inferred 
both  from  the  wealth  of  its  owner,  and  from  the  circumstance 
of  Mary  mistaking  him  who  addressed  her  for  'the  gardener'; — 
implying  that  the  place  was  such  as  indicated  the  care  of  one 
in  constant  attendance  for  its  cultivation.  But,  more  specially, 
within  the  walls  of  the  garden  was  an  enclosed  tomb;  dug 
newly  from  the  rock,  with  its  heavy  door  of  stone  defying  all 
thoughtless  intrusion,  and  so  enclosed  that  none  had  ever  yet 
entered  to  occupy  it — 'a  sepulchre  wherein  man  was  never  yet 
laid.'  This  was  the  lowly  rest  for  which  Jesus  longed;  the 
quiet  enclosure  where  he  was  to  repose  in  his  death.  The  new- 
ness and  security  of  the  tomb  were  honorable  for  him ;  and 
satisfying  also  for  his  sorrowing  Bride,  because  assuring  her 
that  by  none  but  himself  had  the  prison  of  the  grave  been 
opened  on  her  behalf. 

'A  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed' — for  Hhey  made  the 


CHAP.  IV.  12,  13,  15.      THE   GARDEN   OF   SPICES.  293 

sepulchre  sure,  sealing  the  stone.'  That  spring  was  Jesus  '  the 
fountain  of  living  waters';  Jesus  who  at  the  well  of  Sychar 
said,  *if  thou  hadst  known  who  it  is  that  saith,  Give  me  to 
drink,  thou  wouldest  have  asked  for  him  and  he  would  have 
given  thee  living  water;'  Jesus  who  on  the  last  day  of  the  feast 
proclaimed,  'if  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and 
drink.'  But  he  had  not  yet  actually  become  the  springing 
fountain  of  life;  the  fountain  was  in  him,  the  life  was  in  him; 
but  hitherto  it  had  not  been  opened,  that  dying  men  might 
drink.  Jesus  himself  declared — 'My  blood  is  drink  indeed; 
except  ye  drink  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  Man  yc  have  no  life 
in  you,'  The  shed  blood,  therefore,  is  the  'fountain '  of  'living 
water'  for  the  perishing;  though  never  separate  from  the  Spirit 
'springing  up  within  the  soul  to  life  eternal.'  While  the  nails 
pierced  the  hands  and  feet  of  our  blessed  Lord  on  Calvary,  the 
fountain  of  life  was  opened;  but  for  a  season  the  opened  'spring 
was  shut  up,  the  fountain  was  sealed,'  when  they  laid  the  body 
of  Jesus  in  the  tomb;  when  they  rolled  the  great  stone  to  the 
mouth  of  the  sepulchre,  and  sealed  it  up.  Had  Jesus  remained 
there,  it  had  been  for  ever  'a  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed' 
■ — not  shut  up  for  men,  but  from  them;  not  secured  for  the 
Bride,  but  closed  against  her  for  ever.  This  was  what  man 
and  Satan  desired  and  designed  by  the  seal.  But  He  lay  there 
whom  the  Father  himself  '  had  sealed ;'  and  the  signet  of  ene- 
mies  was  employed  by  the  Father  to  seal  this  fountain  undis- 
turbed, untouched,  till  the  hour  when  its  living  waters  were 
to  break  forth.  Then  it  was  'a  fountain  of  gardens,  a  well  of 
living  waters,  and  streams  from  Lebanon ' — then  the  imprisoned 
spring  burst  forth ;  then  the  clear  fountain  welled  up  from  its 
hidden  depths;  then  the  living  Avaters flowed  over,  the  waters 
that  were  to  flow  for  ever.  The  block  of  stone  was  borne  away; 
the  seal  of  earth  was  broken  by  the  gushing  stream,. '  spring- 
ing up  into  everlasting  life,'  from  'the  well  of  gardens,  the  pit 
of  living  waters '  (Old  Bible). 

'  Streams  from  Lebanon '  issued  forth ;  for  though  the  foun- 
tain was  lowly,  yet  its  source  was  lofty.  A  spring  fed  by  the 
'snow  of  Lebanon';  the  cold-flowing  water,  from  the  ever- 
lasting snows,  was  never  exhausted  by  the  drought,  never  lost 


294  THE   BRIDAL   EVENING.      CHAP.  IV.  12,  13,  15. 

its  freshness  by  the  heat  of  summer,  but  was  always  abundant 
and  always  refreshing.  But  loftier  than  Lebanon's  summit  is 
the  source  of  this  fountain,  for  it  is  in  the  throne  of  God  and 
the  Lamb;  the  well  springs  up  from  the  earth,  but  its  source 
is  in  the  highest  heaven.  It  is  more  enduring  also  than  Leba- 
non's snow,  for,  it  comes  from  the  life  of  God  himself,  and 
springs  up  into  everlasting  life  in  us.  It  is  no  longer  now  'a 
spring  shut  up' — no  longer  'a  fountain  sealed,' — but  all  are 
invited  to  drink.  Beside  its  flowing  waters  'the  Spirit  and 
the  Bride  say  Come,  he  that  heareth  saith  Come;  and  let  him 
that  is  athirst  come,  and  whosoever  will  let  him  come  and  take 
the  water  of  life  freely !'  But  Jesus  asks,  '  will  a  man  leave 
the  snow  of  Lebanon  which  cometh  from  the  rock  of  the  field; 
or  shall  the  cold-flowing  waters  be  forsaken?— because  my 
people  have  forgotten  me ;'  calling  himself  this  flowing  water, 
this  spring  from  Lebanon.  Have  you  forsaken  Him?  are  you 
leaving  Him?  will  you  refuse  to  drink  and  live? 

Jesus  is  for  ever  'a  spring  shut  up,  a  fountain  sealed,'  be- 
cause 'no  man  can  come  to  him  except  the  Father  both  draw' 
the  man,  and  'remove  the  stone  from  the  well's  mouth';  none 
can  drink  of  the  living  fountain  except  the  Spirit  break  the 
seal,  and  give  wisdom  'to  know  the  gift  of  God.'  For  ever 
Jesus  is  an  open  stream  of  life,  because  daily,  hourly,  instantly, 
he  invites  all — '  if  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  to  me  and 
drink !' 

There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood, 

Drawn  from  Immanuel's  veins; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 

Lose  all  their  guilty  stains. 

The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day ; 
And  there  have  I,  as  vile  as  he, 

Washed  all  my  sins  away. 

Dear  dying  Lamb !  thy  precious  blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power 
Till  all  the  ransomed  Church  of  God 

Be  saved,  to  sin  no  more. 


CHAP.  IV.  12,  13,  15.      THE   GARDEN   OF   SPICES.  295 

E'er  since  by  faith  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  suj^ply; 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme, 

And  shall  be  till  I  die. —  Cowper. 

In  a  secondary  sense,  the  Church  also  is  'a  garden  enclosed,' 
because  it  is  within  the  enclosed  garden  of  4;he  kingdom  of 
heaven ;  and  the  soul  is  a  garden  enclosed  for  Christ,  for  him 
to  enter  and  occupy,  reserved  for  the  King's  use  and  not  for 
strangers.  The  believing  heart  is  a  fountain  sealed,  a  spring 
shut;  with  the  seal  of  the  Great  King  upon  it,  with  its  hid- 
den waters  kept  clear  and  fresh  for  him.  It  is  also  a  well  of 
living  waters,  with  '  the  well-spring  of  wisdom  as  a  flowing 
brook,'  with  'streams  from  Lebanon'  watering  the  waste 
around.  'A  well  without  water'  is  the  darkest  character  with 
which  the  follower  of  Christ  can  be  branded — a  well  useless, 
disappointing,  dishonoring.  The  history  of  such  a  well  is  al- 
ways the  same — '  the  heart  out  of  which  are  the  issues  of  life 
was  not  kept  with  all  diligence' — there  was  no  stone  on  the 
well's  mouth — no  royal  seal  upon  its  hidden  treasures — it  was 
not  kept  for  the  King  but  was  open  to  every  wayfarer— its 
waters  were  fouled  with  the  strangers'  feet — the  King  could 
no  lono-er  drink  them,  and  cut  off  the  secret  supplies  that  flowed 
from  his  exhaustless  fountains  in  the  heights  of  Lebanon. 
Reader!  art  thou  for  thy  Lord  a  garden  enclosed?  art  thou 
for  Christ  a  fountain  sealed? 

We  are  a  garden  walled  around, 
Chosen  and  made  peculiar  ground; 
A  little  spot  enclosed  by  grace, 
Out  of  the  world's  wide  wilderness. 

Watts. 

But  we  would  not  forget  that  the  garden,  which  contains  all 
in  itself,  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  its  King  and  his  Bride 
within  it.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth,  while  most  freely 
invitino-  all  to  enter,  is  ever  represented  as  an  enclosure,  with 
'salvation  for  walls  and  bulwarks,'  with  'a  strait  gate'  through 
which  the  entrant  must  pass,  with  a  locked  gate  at  which  the 
applicant  must  'knock.'  Each  successive  applicant  for  ad- 
mission knocks  for  himself,  and  the  door  is  never  left  open  or 


296  THE   BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  IV.  10-14. 

unguarded,  but  is  shut  behind  every  entrant.  The  world  hates 
this  kingdom  because  it  is  a  garden  enclosed,  admitting  no  free 
rsLUcre  or  interchange  of  boundaries  with  the  world  outside. 
They  would  enter  if  they  could  only  break  down  its  walls; 
but  since  they  cannot,  they  choose  a  lawless  liberty  which  has 
its  issue  in  their  being  'without'  for  ever.  The  Lord  hath 
provided  for  his  Bride  an  enclosed  garden,  which  admits  all 
for  entrance  but  makes  no  provision  for  retreat;  which  shuts 
out  the  lion's  den,  and  the  roaring  lion  that  followed  her  to 
the  gate — which  shuts  out  the  world  left  behind,  and  shuts 
out  the  idols  amongst  the  moles  and  bats.  This  garden  she 
delights  in  because  thus  enclosed,  and  she  only  longs  for  its 
upper  terraces  in  the  Church  above;  because  the  heavenly 
Paradise  is  entirely  and  eternally  'a  garden  enclosed,'  '  nothing 
that  defileth  entering '  for  ever,  and  its  occupants  '  going  no 
more  out.'  Were  the  enclosed  garden  a  vast  hospital,  O  per- 
ishing sinner  !  it  were  thy  wisdom  to  enter  it  before  thou  hast 
become  the  prey  of  thy  pursuer,  swifter  than  the  leopard  and 
fiercer  than  the  ravening  wolf.  Were  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
on  earth  a  dismal  prison-house,  it  should  be  a  welcome  refuge 
for  men  who  have  forfeited  their  lives  to  justice;  but  when  it 
is  'a  very  Paradise  of  pomegranates  and  pleasant  fruits'  (Old 
Bible),  and  when  it  contains  nothing  but  what  is  'pleasant  to 
the  eye,  good  for  food  or  for  healing  medicine,  and  trees  to  be 
desired  to  make  men  wise,'  why  should  any  man  refuse  to  en- 
ter merely  because  it  is  'a  garden  enclosed ?' 

THE  SPICES   OF   THE  GARDEN. 

How  much  better  is  the  smell  of  thine  ointments  than  all  spices — 
the  smell  of  thy  garments  is  like  the  smell  of  Lebanon — camphire 
with  spikenard,  spikenard  and  saffron;  calamus  and  cinnamon, 
ivith  all  trees  of  frankincense;  myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the 
chief  spices. — There  is  scarcely  anything  in  the  gospel  history 
more  closely  connected  with  the  death  of  Jesus  than  ointment 
and  spices.  By  the  Lord's  own  institution,  the  wine  that  per- 
tained to  joy  and  feasting  is  for  ever  associated  with  his  blood; 


CHAP.  IV.  10-14.      THE   SPICES   OF   THE   GARDEN.  297 

aud  almost  as  intimately  have  bis  words  associated  ointments 
with  his  death.  The  statement  may  appear  too  broad,  but  to 
our  remembrance  there  were  no  deeds  done  toward  Christ  on 
earth  of  which  he  took  any  notice,  or  on  which  he  appeared 
to  set  any  value,  compared  with  the  anointing  of  his  feet  aud 
head.  Ointments  were  always  prized  in  the  east;  and  were 
especially  connected  with  feasts  among  the  living,  and  with 
funerals  of  the  dead.  At  a  feast '  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner' 
anointed  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  wiped  them  with  her  hair — 
'seest  thou  this  woman,'  he  said,  'she  loved  much  and  is  for- 
given much.'  At  a  feast,  again,  when  the  'spikenard  very 
costly'  was  poured  upon  him,  Jesus  expressly  connected  the 
anointing  Avith  his  death;  joining  the  elements  of  feasting 
and  of  mourning  as  distinctly  as  in  the  supper  itself — 'against 
the  day  of  my  burying  hath  she  kept  this:  she  hath  come  to 
anoint  me  aforehand  to  the  burying. '  How  greatly  he  prized 
this  funeral  anointing  may  be  gathered  both  from  his  willing 
reception  of  the  costly  odours,  which  if  sold  would  have  sup- 
plied many  poor  with  bread ;  and  from  the  declaration,  like  to 
which  he  never  made  another,  that  'wheresoever  the  gospel 
should  be  preached  throughout  the  whole  world,  that  anointing 
should  be  told  in  memorial  of  her'  who  ministered  it.  This 
fact  proves  how  highly  Jesus  prized  the  funeral  ointment  in 
which  he  was  to  be  wrapped  by  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  and 
Nicodemus,  and  the  holy  women  that  followed  him — not  for 
its  own  sake  but  as  a  typical  emblem.  If  so  much  is  made 
of  these  odours  in  all  the  gospels;  if  the  narrative  of  the 
anointing  of  Jesus  while  living,  and  of  his  embalming  when 
dead,  is  so  full  and  so  minute;  can  we  wonder  at  a  large  place 
being  assigned  to  it  in  an  emblematic  and  allegoric  Song? — 
yet,  after  all,  a  place  not  larger  but  less  than  in  the  historic 
gospels. 

'Thy  garments,  and  the  smell  of  thine  ointments' — these 
expressions  do  not  lead  us  away  from  Jesus  himself,  because 
all  his  anointings  on  earth  were  furnished  by  the  ministry 
of  the  Bride.  Jesus  made  bread  for  the  multitudes,  he  created 
wine  for  the  marriage;  but  spices  he  received  entirely  from 


298  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  IV.  10-14. 

others.  He  gave  to  men  more  earthly  bread  than  he  accepted 
from  them,  more  wine  than  he  received;  but  the  only  anoint- 
ing he  ever  conferred  was  the  real  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  breathing  and  bestowal  of  the  Spirit: — while  he  prized  the 
outward  emblematic  gift, — grace  in  the  believer  is  always  fra- 
grant to  Jesus;  his  own  anointing  returning  to  himself  as  a 
sweet  savour,  as  well  as  ascending  to  the  Father;  and  the  love 
also  tliat  brought  the  anointings  for  the  dying  and  for  the  dead 
was  most  acceptable  to  the  Beloved.  But  as  the  final  passover 
was  the  food  which  from  his  youth  up  he  had  desired  to  eat, 
so  the  final  anointing  and  the  funeral  embalming  were  to  him 
'the  spices  above  all  ointments.'  The  'garments'  were  not 
chiefly  the  Bride's  personal  raiment  of  the  soul,  but  'the  fine 
linen  bought'  by  the  Bride  in  which  she  wound  him  with  the 
spices;  signifying  that  within  that  tomb  all  fragrance  was 
gathered — all  myrrh,  cassia,  aloes,  spikenard,  frankincense, 
calamus — ^^all  fragrance  of  heaven,  all  fragrance  of  earth.  The 
Lord  Jesus  lay  embalmed  and  embedded  in  odours  of  infinite 
cost — the  anointed  One  with  all  the  ointments  that  were  ever 
to  be  his.  The  anointing  of  his  holy  conception  by  the  Spirit 
— the  anointing  of  his  birth  typified  by  the  eastern  odours — 
the  anointing  of  his  baptism  when  the  Spirit  descended  and 
abode — the  anointino;  of  his  death  when  throuo-h  the  Eternal 
Spirit  he  was  offered  to  the  Father;  all  contributed  their  odours 
to  the  tomb.  All  his  own  personal  fragrance,  in  joy,  in  sor- 
row, in  childhood,  in  manhood,  in  life  and  in  death,  was  gath- 
ered now.  His  death  possessed  a  fragrance  peculiar  to  itself — 
of  all  justice,  all  truth,  all  love,  all  wisdom,  completed  and 
fulfilled.  When  he  lay  entombed,  it  was  in  the  full  '  moun- 
tain of  myrrh,'  in  the  high-heaped  'hill  of  frankincense,'  not 
a  grain  to  be  added  more  to  all  eternity.  The  outward  abun- 
dance of  odours  in  the  hundred  pounds'  weight  of  myrrh  and 
aloes  brought  by  Nicodemus,  and  designed  to  shadow  the  true 
anointing,  was  so  great  that  a  modern  murmurer  has  objected 
that  'it  was  enough  to  embalm  two  hundred  dead  bodies.' 
Never  till  then  was  the  bed  of  spices  prepared,  for  his  life  itself 
borrowed  odours  from  his  death,  while  his  death  had  an  infinite 


CHAP.  IV.  16.       THE   SPICES   OF   THE   GARDEN.  299 

fragrance  of  its  own.  But  thence  onward  till  this  day  not  a 
grain  of  myrrh  or  frankincense  has  been  gathered  to  the  heap, 
nor  will  be  to  all  eternity.  All  was  finished  then,  all  full, 
all  perfect — in  all  variety  of  precious  odours,  and  in  all  abun- 
dance for  earth  and  for  heaven.  Not  another  perfume  will 
now  be  brought — no  small  dust  of  the  balance  can  be  cast  in 
along  with  'all  the  powders  of  the  merchant.'  Nothing  can 
be  added  to  the  perfect — nor  can  the  overflowing  cup  be  made 
fullei'.  'I  will  get  me  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh,  to  the  hill 
of  frankincense, '  wrapped  in  garments  fragrant  as  Lebanon, 
and  surrounded  by  all  'trees  of  frankincense.'  If  the  round 
globe  were  one  hill  of  pure  frankincense,  if  all  the  orbs  above 
were  gathered  like  so  many  grains  to  form  one  vast  mountain 
of  myrrh,  if  the  burning  heavens  were  the  censer  in  which  to 
kindle  this  heap  of  incense — it  would  be  like  'Lebanon  not 
sufficient  to  burn' — it  would  be  as  nothing  compared  with 
the  Word  made  flesh,  the  Creator  enwrapping  himself  in  cre- 
ated vestments,  and  presenting  himself  to  the  Father  as  'a 
sacrifice  of  a  sweet-smelling  savour. ' 

Awake,  O  North  wind;  and  come,  thou  South;  blow  upon  my 
garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out. — All  is  ripe,  all  full, 
in  the  garden  of  spices;  one  want  only  remains  in  the  Breath 
of  heaven  to  diffuse  the  hidden  fragrance.  It  is  no  added 
balm  that  the  Bridegroom  asks,  but  the  Spirit  to  spread  the 
savour  of  his  name  abroad ;  for  throughout  the  word  the  wind 
is  the  constant  emblem  of  the  Spirit,' the  wind  blowing  where 
it  listeth,'  the  Spirit  breathing  where  he  willeth.  'Ointment 
poured  forth '  the  virgins  had  called  his  name ;  'awake,  O  wind> 
and  blow  upon  my  garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow 
out!'  is  Christ's  own  prayer:  'I  will  pray  the  Father  and  he 
will  send  you  another  Comforter — he  shall  glorify  me  for  he 
shall  take  of  mine  and  shall  show  it  unto  you — Father  glorify 
thy  name. '  He  prays  the  Father  for  the  Comforter,  and  by 
himself  also  will  the  Comforter  be  sent — 'if  I  depart  I  will 
send  him  to  you';  and  'awake,  O  north  wind!'  is  the  voice 
of  a  divine  call  to  the  Spirit  to  com.e.  '  When  he  is  come  he 
will  reprove  the  world ' — for  it  is  the  North  wind  that  is  first 


300  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  IV\16. 

awoke  by  Jesus ;  it  is  the  Comforter  coming,  but  witli  sharp 
conviction  in  the  hearts  of  men ;  but  the  '  South  wind '  soon 
follows  with  the  joys  of  the  Holy  Ghost — '  Come  from  the  four 
winds,  O  Breath !'  The  prayer  was  fulfilled  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost  'when  the  rushing  mighty  wind  came  from  heaven 
and  filled  all  the  house ' — not  from  east  or  west  or  north  or 
south  it  came,  but  straight  down  from  heaven,  containing  the 
four  winds  within  it,  and  ready  to  disperse  itself  abroad  to  the 
four  corners  of  the  habitable  earth  with  all  convincing,  con- 
verting, and  reviving  power. 

But  while  we  interpret  the  words  primarily  of  the  Bride- 
groom of  the  Church,  we  need  not  limit  them  to  this  applica- 
tion ;  because  believers  are  '  trees  of  righteousness, '  and  in 
Christ's  absence  it  belongs  to  the  Church  to  pray  that  the 
Spirit  would  come,  and  breathe  upon  the  garden  of  the  Lord. 
The  Father,  the  great  husbandman,  the  plants  of  whose  plant- 
ing cannot  be  plucked  up,  has  promised  to  fill  the  garden  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  all  variety  of  trees  of  frankincense, 
in  the  members  of  the  Church  fragrant  with  grace,  and  each 
with  some  distinctive  excellence.  '  I  will  plant  in  the  wilder- 
ness the  cedar,  the  shittah  tree,  and  the  myrtle,  and  the  oil- 
tree  ;  I  will  set  in  the  desert  the  fir-tree,  and  the  pine,  and 
the  box-tree  together.'  From  us  therefore  now,  as  well  as 
from  Jesus  while  on  earth,  ought  the  prayer  to  ascend, — 
'  Awake,  O  North  wind,  and  come  thou  South,  and  blow  upon 
my  garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  fiow  out !' 

The  South  wind  brings  heat,  clouds,  moisture,  rain.  'Dost 
thou  know  the  balancings  of  the  clouds,'  asks  the  son  of  Bara- 
chel,  'how  thy  garments  are  warm  when  he  quieteththe  earth 
by  the  south  wind?'  and  he  adds,  'now  men  see  not  the  bright 
light  that  is  in  [or  behind]  the  clouds,  but  the  wind  passeth 
and  cleanseth  them ;  fair  weather  cometh  out  of  the  north ; 
with  God  is  terrible  majesty.'  He  saith  again  that  'cold  com- 
eth out  of  the  north;'  and  the  author  of  this  Song  records  that 
'  the  north  wind  driveth  away  rain.'  Mere  heat  and  rain 
prepare  no  tree  for  bearing  and  ripen  no  fruit  for  eating ;  mere 
comfort  and  refreshment  communicate  life  to  no  dead  soul,  and 


CHAP.  IV.  16.       THE   SPICES   OF   THE   GAEDEN.  301 

fruitfulness  to  no  leafy  cumberer  of  the  ground.     '  Awake,  O 
North  wind!'  is  a  solemn  prayer;  it  is  calling  for  that  breath 
of  heaven  of  which  we  know  not  whence  it  cometh  nor  whither 
it  goeth,  and  which  we  cannot  hush  again  at  pleasure  like  the 
mere  stirrings  of  our  own  hearts — for  it  is  the  Spirit  of  search- 
ing and  keen  conviction  to  which  no  man  can  say,  'Hitherto 
shalt  thou  come  and  no  further.'     The  north  wind  is  awoke — 
the  covering  clouds  are  scattered — '  the  terrible  majesty  is  re- 
vealed'— the  Holy  One  shines  forth  'searching  the  heart  and 
trying  the  reins.'    The  tree  that  was  gorgeous  with  gaudy  blos- 
soms that  were  never  to  bear  is  stripped  by  the  northern  blast, 
and  all  its  untimely  flowers  lie  scattered  on  the  ground.     The 
poor  amazed  soul  cries  out  in  sorrow  and  almost  in  despair —  . 
'Who  can  stand  before  his  cold  ?'  But '  by  all  these  things  men 
live,  and  in  all  these  is  the  life  of  man's  spirit.'     Take  courage, 
then,  to  pray — Awake,  O  North  wind !  awake  and  nip  every 
deceitful  bud,  and  scatter  all  that  is  unreal,  though  it  leave 
me  naked  and  desolate.     The  word  of  life  is   '  received  with 
much  affliction,  as  well  as  with  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost';  and 
even  after  we  have  known  the  South  wind's  genial  warmth, 
we  must  ask  the  North  wind  again  to  awake;  because  the 
mere  hot-house  plant  will  never  endure  to  the  end  ,  and  it  is 
still  through  much  tribulation  that  we  enter  the  kingdom. 
For  others  also  as  well  as  for  ourselves  we  must  press  the  pe- 
tition— 'Awake,  O  North  wind';  for  the  promise  is  that  'when 
the  Spirit  is  come,  he  will  convince  the  world  of  sin,'  that  world 
which  no  man  can  convince.    '  Awake,  awake,  put  on  strength, 
O  arm  of  the  Lord  !  awake,  as  in  the  ancient  days,  in  the  gen- 
erations of  old ;  art  thou  not  it  that  hath  cut  Rahab  and 
wounded  the   dragon?'     Then  would   a   slumbering   world 
awake,  and  souls  awakened  out  of  dead  sleep  would  cry,  'What 
shall  we  do  to  be  saved?' 

But  there  is  another  prayer  put  into  our  lips,  'Come  thou 
South  wind !' — with  its  warmth,  reviving  the  plant  that  was 
chilled  and  seemed  dead  before.  Come,  O  Spirit  of  grace ! 
softening,  melting,  reviving,  gladdening  the  soul.  Come  with 
power,  come  with  fullness,  come  with  warmth  thawing  this 


302  THE   BEIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  IV.  19. 

frozen  heart,  and  blow  upon  this  garden  that  the  spices  thereof 
may  flow  out!  Grace  will  not  force;  it  may  be  all  in  the 
heart  and  lie  there  as  cold  as  a  stone,  as  hard,  as  odourless ; 
it  may  seem  dead  when  it  is  only  chilled  and  frozen.  The  . 
believer  needs  the  Spirit ;  the  present  and  immediate  breath 
of  the  Spirit,  for  every  exercise  of  grace,  as  much  as  for  its 
original  gift. 

But  we  must  not  forget  that  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is 
to  testify  of  Jesus  and  reveal  him ;  and  having  prayed  for  the 
Spirit  Ave  must  add,  'Let  my  Beloved  come  and  eat  his  pleasant 
fruits !'  The  following  lines  interpret  the  winds  too  literally — 
for  the  Sj)irit  and  the  Breath  of  Jesus  are  one — yet  they  are 
not  without  interest. 

But  why,  O  winds!  first  call  I  you? 

Let  my  Beloved  rather  come, 
More  than  your  gales  his  breath  can  do, 

Not  show  but  make  my  best  perfume. 
Why  comes  he  not?    O  where's  the  let, 

Now  that  his  garden's  in  its  prime, 
Now  that  his  fruits  are  fit  to  eat, 

And  may  be  worse  another  time? —  Woodford. 

THE   BETROTHING  SUPPER. 

Let  my  Beloved  come  into  his  garden,  and  eat  his  pleasant 
fruits. — '  Now  the  first  day  of  the  feast  of  unleavened  bread 
when  the  passover  must  be  killed,  the  disciples  came  to  Jesus 
saying  unto  him.  Where  wilt  thou  that  we  go  and  prepare  for 
thee  that  thou  may  est  eat  the  passover?  And  he  sendeth  forth 
two  of  his  disciples,  Peter  and  John,  and  saith  unto  them,  Go 
ye  into  the  city,  and  there  shall  a  man  meet  you  bearing  a 
pitcher  of  water,  follow  him.'  This  contains  the  single  in- 
stance in  the  whole  life  of  Jesus  in  which  he  had  expressed  an 
earnest  desire  to  eat,  and  would  not  be  turned  aside.  On  his 
return  from  the  desert  he  was  'an  hungered,'  and  Satan  urged 
him  to  satisfy  his  want  by  turning  the  stones  into  bread;  but  he 
would  not  eat,  for  'man  liveth  not  by  bread  alone  but  by  every 
word  of  God.'     At  the  well  of  Sychar  his  disciples  pressed  him, 


CHAP.  IV.  16.  THE   BETROTHING   SUPPER.  303 

'Master,  eat!'  but  he  answered,  'I  have  meat  to  eat  that  ye 
know  not  of.'  But  now,  in  the  eve  of  the  last  twelve  hours 
of  his  life,  he  saith — 'With  desire  I  have  desired  to  eat  this 
Passover  with  you  before  I  suffer.'  The  Son  of  Man  '  had  come 
eating/  but  now  for  the  first  time  attaching  importance  to  the 
feast  of  which  he  is  to  partake.  'Let  my  beloved  come  and 
eat — where  wilt  thou  that  we  prepare?'  Now  also  for  the  first 
time  he  speaks  of  partaking  of  'pleasant  fruits,'  setting  high 
value  on  Avhat  he  designates  'this  fruit  of  the  vine;'  for  the 
"first  time  likewise,  he  takes  charge  of  the  arrangements  of  the 
feast.  Throughout  his  ministry  Jesus  is  invited  by  men  of 
various  ranks  and  characters,  by  Pharisees,  by  Publicans,  by 
chosen  friends  like  Lazarus;  or  he  comes  uninvited,  as  in  the 
case  of  Zaccheus;  but  he  takes  no  charge  of  the  outward  ar- 
rangements, and  eats  what  is  set  before  him,  asking  no  ques- 
tions. But  now,  he  sends  two  of  his  disciples — not  to  preach 
as  before,  and  prepare  his  way  in  the  desert  by  publishing  the 
peace  of  the  Kingdom — but  to  order  the  banquet-hall,  and 
prepare  the  feast.  The  Master  saith,  'my  time  is  at  hand,  I 
will  keep  the  passover  at  thy  house  with  my  disciples — where 
is  the  guest-chamber? — and  he  will  show  you  a  large  upper 
room  furnished  and  prepared,  there  make  ready  for  us — and 
they  made  ready  the  passover.'  Let  now  my  Beloved  come 
and  eat  his  pleasant  fruits! — this  passover  which  with  desire 
he  hath  desired  to  eat  with  his  disciples — this  fruit  of  the  vine 
which  he  hath  longed  to  drink  together  with  them.  Let  him 
eat  now  the  pleasant  fruit  of  all  the  years  of  his  life — the  sup- 
per for  which  he  hath  longed  during  the  twelve  hours  of  the 
day — 'the  meat  he  had  to  eat'  which  others  knew  not  of,  and 
on  account  of  which  other  food  was  indifferent.  Let  him  par- 
take at  last  of  'his  pleasant  fruits,  the  first  ripe  fruit  which  his 
soul  desired,'  the  feast  on  which  his  heart  was  set  from  his 
childhood,  the  end  of  his  life  and  the  object  of  it  all;  fruit 
pleasant  to  him  on  the  Father's  account,  because  the  pleasure 
of  the  Father  was  fulfilled  in  it ;  fruit  pleasant  to  him  on  the 
Bride's  account,  because  it  was  'all  the  fruit  to  take  away  her 
sin.' 


304  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  V.  1. 

/  am  come  into  my  garden,  my  Sister,  my  Spouse. — '  In  the 
evening  he  cometh  with  the  twelve;  and  when  the  hour  was 
come,  he  sat  down,  and  the  twelve  apostles  with  him/  'Be- 
cause the  children  were  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  like- 
wise himself  took  part  of  the  same';  and  therefore  calls  the 
Church  his  Sister.  For  the  first  Adam  'an  help-meet'  was 
created  out  of  his  own  flesh  and  bone,  because  there  was  no 
sister-spouse  for  him  on  earth,  since  all  were  inferior.  But  in 
the  Second  Adam  it  was  not  a  bride  raised  up  to  be  fit  for  him 
as  for  a  brother ;  but  it  was  the  Son  of  God  taking  flesh,  and 
humbling  himself  into  meetness  for  her  as  toward  a  sister. 
Spouse  he  calls  this  sister,  saying — '  I  have  not  called  you  ser- 
vants but  friends,  for  all  things  that  I  have  heard  of  the  Father 
I  have  made  known  unto  you;'  for  unlimited  confidence  and 
repose,  unrestrained  opening  of  the  whole  heart,  is  one  of  the 
most  distinctive  of  all  the  privileges  of  the  marriage  covenant. 
Along  with  unbounded  confidence,  there  was  love  that  knew 
no  limits — '  As  my  Father  hath  loved  me  so  have  I  loved  you, 
continue  ye  in  my  love.'  He  has  confided  in  the  Church  with 
more  than  the  confidence  of  any  husband ;  he  has  loved  the 
Church  with  more  than  any  husband's  love ;  and  from  none 
other  were  these  words  ever  so  full  of  truth  and  of  meaning — 
'My  Sister,  my  Spouse!' 

/  have  gathered  my  myrrh  ivith  my  spice. — Even  before  the 
drinking  of  the  milk  is  the  gathering  of  the  myrrh ;  before  he 
'hangs  on  his  mother's  breasts  and  hopes  in  his  God,'  Jesus 
is  conceived  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  is  already 
in  first  conception  the  Holy  and  the  Anointed  One;  and  all 
the  'garments '  of  flesh,  which  he  begins  to  wrap  around  him- 
self, already  'smell  of  myrrh  and  aloes  and  cassia,'  in  the 
creating  power  and  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Anointing 
Spirit.  From  that  hour  onward,  '  myrrh  and  spices  have  been 
gathered  by  him;'  in  the  holy  human  nature  expanding  and 
'growing  in  wisdom,'  and  in  further  'anointing  by  the  Spirit,' 
as  when  at  baptism  the  Dove  descended  and  abode  on  him. 
Outward  myrrh  and  spices  are  also  gathered,  typical  of  the 
spiritual  and  eternal — in  the  frankincense  and  myrrh  oflered 
him  in  infancy,  in  the  ointment  poured  on  his  feet  in.the  course 


CHAP.  V.  1.  THE    BETEOTHING   SUPPER.  305 

of  his  ministry,  and  in  the  spikenard  very  costly  with  which 
he  has  now  been  anointed  for  his  burying.  Other  anointings 
the  Bride  has  yet  to  bring  for  his  dead  body,  and  these  he  de- 
spises not;  but  he  has  received  the  last  of  the  myrrh  and  spices 
that  are  to  be  gathered  by  himself.  In  like  manner  through 
all  his  journey  in  the  wilderness  he  has  been  'gathering  myrrh' 
from  the  desert;  making  supplication  with  strong  crying,  and 
with  tears  which  on  our  account  are  preserved  by  the  Father 
'in  his  bottle;'  and  gathering  costly  spices  in  all  his  works, 
and  all  his  temptations.  Some,  indeed,  of  the  last  and  bitterest 
drops  of  myrrh  he  has  still  to  gather,  but  he  knows  that  'he 
cannot  fail  nor  be  discouraged,'  and  in  the  nearness  and  cer- 
tainty of  the  fulfilment  he  addresses  the  Bride  as  if  all  were 
already  accomplished. 

/  have  eaten  my  honeycomb  tcith  my  honey — I  have  drunJc  my 
mill'. — In  the  eating  of  the  honey  and  drinking  of  the  milk 
and  of  the  wine,  there  is  indicated  the  true  participation  of 
human  nature  in  all  its  sinless  characteristics.  When  Jesus 
after  his  resurrection  would  prove  to  his  disciples  that  he  was 
not  a  spirit,  he  asked  them  if  they  had  any  meat;  and  'they 
gave  him  a  piece  of  a  honeycomb,  and  he  did  eat  before  them.' 
So  also  in  the  prophecy  of  his  birth,  when  'the  Virgin  is  to  beara 
Son  and  call  his  name  Immanuel,'  it  is  added  that  'butter  and 
honey  shall  he  eat' — exactly  as  here  the  miik  and  the  honey. 
'I  have  drunk  my  milk'  was  fulfilled  when  the  Eternal  Word 
hung  in  infancy  on  his  earthly  mother,  and  praised  his  Heavenly 
Father  saying,  'Thou  art  he  that  took  me  out  of  the  womb, 
thou  didst  make  me  hope  when  I  was  upon  my  mother's 
breasts !' 

I  have  drunk  my  wine — drink,  yea  drink  abundantly. — The 
cup  which  the  Father  gave  him  none  could  drink  but  himself; 
but  when  he  has  drunk  that  cup  we  may  drink  it  after  him. 
A  cup  of  judgment  it  was  to  him,  unmingled  judgment,  but 
to  us  a  cup  of  mercy  ;  yet  not  in  the  form  of  mere  mercy,  but  of 
judgment  finished  and  full  of  grace;  to  him  of  judgment  unto 
death,  to  us  of  death  accomplished — 'this  cup  is  the  new  cove- 
nant in  my  blood,  drink  ye  all  of  it!'  It  was  he  that  drank 
the  cup  of  blood,  and  not  we;  the  wine-cup  filled  with  his 


306  THE    BRIDAL    EVENING.  CHAP.  V.  1. 

own  blood  he  drank  at  the  Father's  hand,  wine  changed  into 
blood.  The  wine-cnp  also  we  drink  at  his  hand,  but  it  is 
blood  changed  into  wine.  To  him  the  cup  was  of  wrath  in  all 
its  fulness;  to  us  the  cup  is  of  wrath  exhausted,  and  of  love 
filling  it  to  the  brim — 'drink,  yea  drink  abundantly!'  The 
cup  of  sin  imputed,  he  drank  ;  the  cup  of  sin  forgiven,  he  gives 
us  to  drink.  He  drank  the  cup  of  the  old  covenant  at  the 
hand  of  the  Father;  we  drink  the  cup  of  the  new  covenant  at 
the  hand  of  the  Sou ;  yet  as  full  of  the  Father's  love  as  of  the 
Son's  for  therefore  did  the  Father  love  him  because  he  laid 
down  his  life.'  He  received  the  cup  of  curse  from  his  God, 
the  cup  of  blessing  we  receive  from  him : — the  cup  of  con- 
demnation his ;  the  cup  of  pardon  ours. 

But  it  is  not  merely  that  the  curse  endured  by  Jesus  is  turned 
for  us  into  blessing,  the  penalty  into  promise, — but  that  all 
the  milk  and  the  honey  of  the  Word  are  ours  because  they 
first  were  his.  '  The  words  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  them,' 
is  true  not  only  of  his  own  utterances  on  earth,  but  of  every 
word  in  the  Scriptures  of  truth;  for  'all  the  promises  of  God 
are  yea  and  amen  in  him,'  and  in  him  alone.  They  are  given 
first  to  him,  aud  through  him  given  to  us;  yet  not  given  to 
him  simply  to  transfer  to  us ;  but  to  him  to  become  his  own,  as 
part  of  himself,  and  through  him  to  be  conveyed  to  us.  There 
was  no  milk  for  us  in  the  word,  for  us  no  honey.  'Do  not  my 
words  do  good  to  him  that  walketh  uprightly?'  but  'there  was 
none  righteous,  no  not  one' — none  walking  uprightly  whom 
the  word  might  profit;  and  it  was  '  line  upon  line,  precept  upon 
precept,  that  we  might  stumble  and  fall  and  be  broken.'  But 
Jesus  came — 'that  Holy  Thing  the  Son  of  God — and  butter 
and  honey  did  the  child  eat,  refusing  the  evil  and  choosing  the 
good.'  He  received  his  Father's  word — 'My  Son!  eat  thou 
honey  because  it  is  good,  and  the  honeycomb  which  is  sweet 
to  the  taste;  so  shall  the  knowledge  of  wisdom  be  unto  thy 
soul.'  From  the  hour  when  he  hung  on  his  mother's  breast 
till  the  hour  when  he  hung  on  the  accursed  tree,  his  soul  lived 
upon  the  word  of  God,  and  he  died  with  the  word  of  God  on 
his  lips — 'Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit!'  He 
drank  every  drop  of  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,  greatly  de- 


CHAP.  V.  1.       THE  BETROTHING  SUPPER.  307 

lighting  ill  it  all  his  life  long  in  childlike  lowliness — 'I  have 
drunk  my  milk';  and  from  every  cell  of  that  heavenly  honey- 
comb he  drew  the  precious  honey  drop — 'I  have  eaten  my 
honey.'  Then  he  gives  us  'broken'  for  our  food  'his  own 
body/  in  which  are  all  the  '  milk '  and  all  the  '  honey '  of  the 
word  and  will  of  God,  and  says — '  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  and 
drink  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  Man  ye  have  no  life  in  you.' 
And  now,  therefore,  through  him  it  is  to  us  'the  sincere  milk 
of  the  word';  and  now  to  us  it  is  'the  word  sweeter  than  the 
honeycomb.'  'I  have  drunk  my  milk — drink  ye  as  new-born 
babes  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word  that  ye  may  grow  thereby ! 
I  have  eaten  my  honey — eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let 
your  soul  delight  itself  in  fatness;  hear  and  your  soul  shall 
live!.' — 'Eat,  O  friends! — drink,  yea  drink  abundantly,  O  be- 
loved ! — take,  eat,  this  is  my  body  which  is  broken  for  you — 
this  cup  is  the  new  testament  in  my  blood,  drink  ye  all  of  it!' 
Thus  closes  the  bridal  Supper  of  the  Song — thus  closes  the 
covenant  supper  of  Jesus  with  his  disciples.  In  neither  is  it 
the  marriage  feast,  but  the  feast  of  espousal,  in  seal  of  the  future 
marriage.  In  both,  the  Bridegroom  takes  leave  of  the  Bride 
before  he  sits  down  to  eat;  and  in  both,  it  is  the  solemn  fare- 
well in  pledge  of  abiding  union  ;  but  in  prbspect  of  immediate 
separation  the  hour  the  feast  is  over.  Alike  in  the  Song  and 
in  the  Gospel,  it  is  the  one  solemn  covenant  transaction  that 
takes  place  between  the  King  and  his  sister-spouse — between 
the  Bridegroom  and  the  children  of  the  bride-chamber.  It  is 
the  pledge  of  the  King's  return  to  the  Marriage  Supper ;  but 
that  supper  is  not  celebrated  in  the  Song,  for  the  concluding 
words  of  the  Bride  are,  'Turn  my  Beloved,  and  be  thou  like 
a  roe  or  a  young  hart  on  the  mountains  of  spices!'  It  is  the 
pledge  of  Christ's  return  to  the  Marriage  Supper  of  the  Lamb — 
'his  death  shown  till  he  come';  but  that  Supper  will  not  be 
spread  till  'the  day  of  his  appearing,'  for  the  last  inspired 
words  of  the  Church  are — 'Even  so,  come  Lord  Jesus!' 

That  night  in  which  he  was  betrayed, 
The  Saviour  of  the  world  took  bread ; 
The  symbol  of  his  flesh  he  broke, 
And  thus  to  all  his  followers  spoke: 


308  THE   BRIDAL   EVEXING.  CHAP.  V.  1. 

My  broken  body  thus  I  give, 
For  you,  for  all — take,  eat,  and  live; 
Then  in  his  hands  the  cup  he  raised. 
And  God  anew  he  thanked  and  praised. 

My  blood  I  thus  pour  forth,  he  cries, 
To  cleanse  the  soul  in  sin  that  lies ; 
In  this  the  covenant  is  sealed, 
And  Heaven's  eternal  grace  revealed. 


CHAP.  V.  2-8.  THE  NIGHT   AFTFE  SUNSET.  309 


XVI. 

THE  NIGHT  AFTER  SUNSET. 

THE  WAKING  SLEEP—THE  SORKOWING  SEARCH  FOR 
THE  KING. 

I  sleep,  but  my  heart  waketh :  it  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved  that  knock- 
eth,  saying,  Open  to  me,  my  sister,  my  love,  my  dove,  my  undefiled :  for 
my  head  is  filled  with  dew,  and  my  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.  I 
have  put  off  my  coat;  how  shall  I  put  it  on?  I  have  washed  my  feet; 
how  shall  I  defile  them?  My  beloved  put  in  his  hand  by  the  hole  of  the 
door,  and  my  bowels  were  moved  for  him.  I  rose  up  to  open  to  my  be- 
loved ;  and  my  hands  dropped  with  myrrh,  and  my  fingers  with  sweet- 
smelling  myrrh,  upon  the  handles  of  the  lock.  I  opened  to  my  beloved; 
but  my  beloved  had  withdrawn  himself,  and  was  gone :  my  soul  failed 
when  he  spake :  I  sought  him,  but  I  could  not  find  him ;  I  called  him  but 
he  gave  me  no  answer.  The  watchmen  that  went  about  the  city  found  me, 
they  smote  me,  they  wounded  me;  the  keepers  of  the  walls  took  away 
my  veil  from  me.  I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  if  ye  find  my 
beloved,  that  ye  tell  him,  that  I  am  sick  of  love. — Chap.  v.  2-8. 

THE  WAKING  SLEEP. 

The  scene  is  suddenly  and  completely  changed  from  evening 
to  midnight,  from  ardent  love  to  cold  repulse,  from  a  bridal 
feast  to  solitude,  mourning,  weeping.  The  bridegroom  has  bid 
his  betrothed  farewell  before  the  espousal  supper,  with  the 
settled  purpose  of  retiring  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh  and  hill 
of  frankincense  to  reat,  till  the  morning  dawn.  The  feast  is 
concluded,  and  he  has  gone  away  by  himself  alone.  But  the 
balmy  rest  iu  the  bed  of  spices  he  has  not  yet  found ;  cold  dark 
night  has  overtaken  him  with  its  heavy  dews,  and  iu  sore  dis- 
tress he  knocks  at  the  door  of  his  espoused  seeking  shelter.  But 
she  has  retired  to  her  own  quiet  rest,  and  has  fallen  asleep ; 
she  hears  his  unexpected  voice,  but  is  unwilling  to  shake  off 
her  slumber  and  receive  him  beneath  her  roof.  She  is  after- 
wards grieved  and  ashamed  for  her  sloth  and  selfishness,  rises 


310  THE   NIGHT   AFTER  SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  2. 

to  open  to  her  Lord,  finds  him  not,  seeks  him  sorrowing 
through  the  city,  and  is  unveiled  and  wounded  by  the  watch- 
men. 

Jesus  having  often  before  spoken  of  his  departure,  takes 
solemn  farewell  of  his  disciples  at  the  Last  Supper,  at  the  Bridal 
Feast  in  the  very  action  of  giving  the  cup  of  espousals — 'hence- 
forth I  will  no  more  drink  of  this  fruit  of  the  vine  till  I  drink 
it  new  with  you  in  the  kingdom  of  my  Father.'  He  leaves 
them,  going  forth  to  death  and  the  rest  of  the  tomb,  he  takes 
three  chosen  ones  further  along  with  him,  he  leaves  them  also 
and  goes  away  alone — 'Tarry  ye  here  while  I  go  and  pray 
yonder.'  He  is  in  a  great  agony,  he  returns  to  them  and  finds 
them  asleep,  and  they  hear  his  voice  but  'wist  not  what  to 
answer.'  Retiring  by  himself  again,  his  sweat  is  as  great  drops 
of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground — 'his  head  is  filled  with 
dew,  his  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.'  When  he  returns, 
he  finds  them  asleep  again — 'asleep  yet  the  heart  waking,'  or, 
as  Jesus  says  in  their  behalf,  'the  spirit  indeed  willing  but  the 
flesh  weak.' 

If  we  duly  remember  the  purely  allegorical  nature  of  this 
Song,  we  shall  find  in  the  last  part  of  this  scene  as  remarkable 
an  accordance  as  in  the  first,  with  the  circumstances  of  our 
Lord's  agony  and  death.  The  sleep  of  the  disciples  was  not 
chiefly  the  outward  heaviness  of  the  eyelids,  but  the  inward 
torpor  of  the  soul;  and  Jesus,  knocking  at  the  door  of  their 
hearts,  was  not  so  painfully  excluded  by  Peter  when  Jesus 
said  to  him,  'Simon!  sleepest  thou?'  as  when  Peter  affirmed 
with  oaths  and  curses,  'I  know  not  the  man.'  Then  indeed 
was  the  door  of  the  heart  closed  against  the  Man  of  Sorrows, 
and  he  was  counted  and  called  a  stranger,  whom  the  first  of 
his  followers  disowned  and  rejected.  ' The  Beloved  stretched 
out  his  hand,'  by  his  providence  working  along  with  the  word. 
In  the  case  of  Peter  that  providence  was  the  crowing  of  the 
cock,  which  suddenly  awakened  his  sleeping  conscience,  while 
Jesus  employed  the  instrument  as  his  own  hand,  along  with 
his  look  of  love  on  the  estranged  disciple .  Then  immediately 
his  *  bowels  were  moved'  for  his  Beloved,  and  he  went  out 
and  wept  bitterly. 


CHAP.  V.  2.  THE   WAKING  SLEEP.  311 

Throughout  the  Song,  the  absence  of  the  Beloved  constitutes 
night;  and  it  was  during  the  dark  night  of  his  removal  that 
the  disciples  came  with  great  earnestness,  ^rising  while  it  was 
yet  dark'  to  open  the  door  of  the  sepulchre  that  they  might 
find  Jesus  and  anoint  him — '  bringing  the  spices  which  they 
had  prepared — their  hands  dropping  myrrh.'  The  fact  of  their 
not  finding  the  crucified  Jesus  occupies  as  marked  a  place  in 
the  Gospels,  as  the  absence  of  the  Beloved  in  the  Song.  He 
had  solemnly  warned  them  of  it  before — 'as  I  said  to  the  Jews 
so  now  I  say  to  you,  ye  shall  seek  me  and  shall  not  find  me.' 
When  they  did  not  find  him,  it  is  written  that  they  '  stood 
weeping,'  and  'were  much  perplexed  thereabout;'  and  the  dis- 
ciples on  the  way  to  Emmaus  speak  of  it  as  a  still  unopened 
mystery  that  'him  they  found  not.'  The  very  terms,  'my  Be- 
loved had  withdrawn  himself  and  was  gone,'  are  nearly  in  the 
words  of  Christ,  '  I  go  my  way  to  him  that  sent  me.'  Then 
there  is  the  circumstance  of  smiting  and  unveiling  by  the 
watchmen — fulfilled  in  its  import  when  one  after  another  of 
the  high  priest's  attendants  lifted  the  veil  of  Peter's  conceal- 
ment, and  looking  steadfastly  in  his  face  inquired,  'Did  not  I 
see  thee  in  the  garden  with  him?'  It  was  fulfilled  also  in  the 
letter,  when  the  young  men  took  hold  on  the  disciple  who  had 
wrapped  himself  in  the  linen  cloth,  which  they  took  away 
while  he  fled  from  them  naked.  There  is,  lastly,  the  being 
'sick  of  love'  brought  out  both  in  particular  instances  of  sorrow, 
and  in  the  general  account  that  'they  that  had  been  with  him 
mourned  and  wept.' 

I  sleep,  but  my  heart  waJceth — neither  sleeping  nor  waking, 
or  rather  both  asleep  and  awake,  the  sleep  not  lulling  watch- 
fulness, the  watchfulness  not  removing  all  the  sleep.  Because 
the  Bridegroom  tarries,  the  wise  virgin  sleeps  with  her  lamp 
burning  beside  her,  but  burning  low  and  sadly  in  want  of 
trimming.  The  language  of  the  bride  is  confessional,  yet 
apologetic;  excusing  the  sleep  of  the  body  by  the  wakefulness 
of  the  heart.  It  is  a  state  in  which  both  are  balanced,  in  which 
neither  overcomes  the  other;  and  the  soul  does  not  desire  that 
either  should  overcome,  but  hold  the  balance  between  them. 
It  loves  both  and  cherishes  both;  it  loves  sleep  and  will  not 


312  THE   NIGHT   AFTER   SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  2. 

consent  to  have  it  broken — 'I  sleep';  pleasantly  and  without 
self-reproach  the  soul  sleeps — 'yet  a  little  sleep,  a  little  slum- 
ber, a  little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep.'  But  it  fears  and 
dislikes  to  be  all  asleep — 'My  heart  waketh';  most  true,  else 
she  could  not  hear  the  Bridegroom's  knock  and  voice.  If  the 
knock  were  becoming  inaudible,  if  the  whole  man  were  sinking 
into  sleep,  the  dread  of  such  an  issue  would  instantly  arouse  the 
whole  man  into  life.  But  all  is  safe,  for  the  Bride  hears  the 
Bridegroom's  voice,  and  knows  that  her  heart  is  not  asleep. 
In  her  present  state,  she  dislikes  as  much  to  be  all  awake  as 
to  be  all  asleep,  and  thus  she  holds  a  nice  equipoise  between 
two  contending  powers  within  her. 

Though  flesh  be  frail,  my  heart  and  soul 

Awake  to  watch  with  thee. 
The  spirit  is  prompt,  the  inner  man,  ,. 

The  wiser  virgin  wakes — 
The  voice  of  my  Belov'd  I  know, 

That  knocketh  at  my  gates. — Troth-plight  Spouse. 

O  foolish  bride  of  the  Lamb!  that  carnal  wisdom  will  cost 
thee  dear ;  thou  thinkest  thyself  wise,  but  thy  wisdom  is  sin ; 
and  these  sweet  waters  will  soon  be  as  bitter  as  wormwood  to 
thy  soul. 

It  is  the  voice  of  my  Beloved  that  knocketh,  saying,  Open  to  me 
my  sister,  my  love,  my  dove,  my  undejiled;  for  my  head  is  filled 
with  dew,  and  my  locks  loith  the  drops  of  the  night. — The  Bride 
is  of  those  who  'have  turned  to  God  from  idols,  and  who  wait 
for  his  Son  from  heaven';  she  is  of  'the  hundred  and  forty 
and  four  thousand  who  are  redeemed  from  among  men,  and  are 
not  defiled  (along)  with  (other)  women,  for  they  are  virgins.' 
With  all  her  sins,  she  is  not  amongst  the  company  who  are 
faultless  enough  in  the  sight  of  men  but  are  called  by  Christ 
^adulterers  and  adulteresses,'  because  they  are  in  friendship 
with  the  world,  and  therefore  at  enmity  with  God.  For  the 
love  she  bare  to  him,  and  for  the  infinitely  greater  love  he  bare 
to  her,  she  is  asked  by  Jesus  to  open  the  door  of  her  heart  to 
give  him  entrance, — 'for  my  head  is  filled  with  dew,  and  my 
locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.'     Christ  left  his  Father's 


CHAP.  V.  3.  THE   WAKING   SLEEP.  •  313 

house  and  bosom  to  seek  a  home  in  his  people's  heart;  and 
the  Sou  of  Man,  not  having  where  to  lay  his  head,  desires  to 
rest  it  on  the  bosom  of  his  ransomed  Church.  He  stands  and 
knocks,  and  entreats,  as  if  it  were  a  favor  to  himself  to  obtain 
admission,  even  as  'God  beseeches  meu  to  be  reconciled.'  As 
one  chilled  with  the  cold  of  the  night,  drenched  with  the  heavy 
dews,  and  overcome  with  sore  fatigue,  he  bega  for  an  open 
door;  counting  every  moment  long  till  he  is  answered;  plead- 
ing the  night-drops  that  are  falling  fast  upon  him.  Once  and 
again  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  Jesus  '  went  out  into  a  mountain 
alone,  and  continued  all  night  in  prayer  to  God'  till  his  head 
was  filled  with  dew.  When  sheltered  under  some  hospitable 
roof,  he  says  of  himself  in  the  Psalms,  'all  the  night  make  I 
my  bed  to  swim,  I  water  my  couch  with  my  tears,'  till  his 
head  is  filled  with  the  drops  of  the  night.  But  there  was  a 
darker  night  drawing  near,  of  which  in  prospect  he  said  '  the 
night  cometh,'  and  on  its  coming,  'now  is  the  hour  and  the 
power  of  darkness.'  The  heavy  dews  that  were  falling  on 
Gethsemane  were  light  compared  with  the  '  drops  of  the  night-' 
that  filled  the  head  and  the  hair  of  the  man  of  sorrows,  when 
*  being  in  an  agony,  his  sweat  was  as  great  drops  of  blood  fall- 
ing to  the  ground.'  Then  he  sought  some  opening  for  rest  in 
the  heart  of  his  disciples,  his  chosen  Bride,  of  whom  he  tes- 
tified 'they  have  kept  thy  word;'  and  he  charged  them  'tarry 
ye  here  and  watch  with  me,' — but  their  eyes  were  heavy  with 
sorrow.  One  other  night  follows,  when  the  sun  is  darkened 
at  noon  as  Jesus  hangs  on  the  accursed  tree ;  and  with  the 
blood-drops  flowing  from  the  piercings  of  the  thorny  crown, 
and  beneath  the  heavy  hail-drops  of  his  Father's  wrath,  the 
Lord  of  glory,  dying,  cries — '  My  head  is  filled  with  the  drops 
of  the  night.' 

I  have  put  off  my  coat,  how  shall  I  put  it  on?  I  have  washed 
my  feet,  how  shall  I  defile  thcm2 

I've  laid  aside  my  kirtle  fair, 

And  bathed  with  care  my  snowy  skin ; 

To  don  my  vest  I  scarce  can  bear, 
And  soil  my  feet  to  let  thee  in.— Grad.  of  Oxf. 


314  •  THE    NIGHT    AFTER   SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  3. 

Is  it  a  benighted  stranger  that  is  thus  coldly  driven  from  thy 
door?  or  is  it  an  ordinary  friend,  of  whom  thou  hast  many, 
and  whose  hardship  is  less  thought  of  than  thine  ease?  Nay, 
it  is  thy  Husband,  thy  Lord,  thy  Beloved,  thy  Saviour  that 
hath  come  from  far  to  seek  thee — thy  Redeemer  whose  raiment 
is  dyed  with  his  own  blood,  which  he  hath  poured  out  for 
thine.  And  art  thou  weary  of  him?  art  thou  estranged  from 
him?  hast  thou  given  him  a  bill  of  divorce,  and  been  married 
to  another?  Nay,  thou  hast  been  waiting  for  him,  and  hast 
fallen  asleep  because  he  tarried.  And  is  this  story  of  thy  well- 
washed  feet  and  thy  doffed  tunic  a  mere  pretense,  an  excuse 
devised  on  purpose  to  keep  him  out  of  doors?  Nay,  thou 
lovest  the  sound  of  his  voice  in  thine  ears,  and  thou  wouldst 
fain  he  were  within.  But  thy  door  is  shut  and  must  be  opened, 
and  opened  by  thee.  Tliine  eyes  are  sealed  in  sleep  though  thine 
heart  waketh,  the  act  of  arising  would  shake  the  whole  inner  man 
from  its  slumbers,  and  thy  sleep-laden  spirit  pleads  against  so 
untimely  an  effort.  It  is  a  long  night  to  thy  Beloved,  for  he 
S'tandeth  without ;  but  it  is  mght  also  to  thee,  and  thou  wouldst 
fain  sleep  till  the  morning.  The  sleep-loving  spirit  tells  thee 
that  there  is  a  lion  in  the  way,  the  grasshopper  is  a  burden  to 
thee,  the  exposure  of  thy  feet  to  the  dusty  floor  seems  a  pro- 
digious sacrifice  too  vast  for  thee  to  make,  the  girding  on  of 
thy  coat  a  Herculean  labor  too  great  for  thee  to  attempt — how 
can  I  do  it?  For  the  moment,  the  sore  travail  of  'Him  who 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto  but  to  minister'  seems  to  thee 
light  in  comparison,  and  his  sacrifice  small,  when  'he  gave  his 
life  a  ransom  for  many.'  O  vile  sloth !  O  wretched  sleep  of 
sin!  thou  hast  made  the  wise  virgins  trifling  fools,  and  hast 
turned  into  cold  aliens  those  who  'did  not  count  their  lives 
dear'  for  Christ's  sake.  O  sleep-laden  Bride  of  the  Lamb! 
thou  hast  repulsed  thy  Lord  for  trifles ;  thou  wast  holding  the 
balances  even,  but  sleep  has  prevailed  and  conquered;  and 
thou  hast  rejected  thy  Lord  with  all  his  love! 

Yet  glory  not,  child  of  this  world !  but  see  your  own  image 
in  this  folly  ;  for  this  is  the  dead  remnant  of  'the  old  man'  that 
is  still  alive  and  whole  in  you,  and  which  constitutes  your  all.  ♦ 
Go  therefore,  and  see  the  wise  virgin's  present  and  partial 


CHAP.  V.  4.   THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.   315 

image,  but  your  constant  and  perfect  likeness.  Esau  sells  his 
birthright  for  red  pottage,  his  spiritual  blessing  for  one  morsel 
of  meat;  and  you  are  selling  your  Lord  for  trifles,  for  thirty 
pieces  o'f  silver;  you  are  selling  your  soul  for  a  trifle,  if  the 
whole  world  Avere  the  price  paid  you  for  it.  Soon  these  baubles, 
the  world,  pleasure,  comfort,  honor,  knowledge,  power,  will  be 
undying  worms  that  will  torment  you  for  ever.  In  your  sleep 
it  seems  to  you  impossible  to  rise,  to  make  an  effort,  to  cast 
off  the  world  with  its  snares  and  the  flesh  with  its  lusts,  to  flee 
from  coming  wrath,  to  embrace  a  willing  Saviour,  to  open  to 
him  that  stands  and  knocks  at  your  door  and  says—'  If  any 
man  open,  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him.'  Be- 
think yourself  before  it  is  too  late— 'Awake  thou  that  sleepest, 
and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light !' 

THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING. 

My  beloved  put  in  his  hand  by  the  hole  of  the  door. -^In  the 
external  image,  the  door  was  so  constructed  as  to  leave  an 
opening  by  which  the  inmate  coming  from  without  could 
thrust  in  his  hand  and  remove  the  bar,  unless  it  was  secured 
by  some  additional  means— locked  as  well  as  barred;  which 
proved  to  be  the  case  on  the  present  occasion.  The  King, 
finding  both  knocking  and  calling  ineffectual  to  move  the  slum- 
bering Bride,  proceeds  to  open  the  door  for  himself.  This  last 
effort,  heard  by  the  slumberer  within,  thorougly  awakens  her; 
and,  moved  with  shame,  sorrow,  and  affection,  she  rises  to  undo 
both  bolt  and  bar,  and  opens  to  her  espoused  Lord. 

Then  up  I  start  os  in  a  maze 

To  ope  my  door,  and  lo, 
My  hands  do  drop  refreshing  myrrhe, 

Which  o'er  my  fingers  flow. 
Even  pure  and  holy  myrrhe  from  me 

Upon  the  door-bar  drops ; 
Anointing  so  the  sprents  and  springs, 

Till  openeth  all  the  locks 
Of  my  enclosed  carnal  heart, 

That  did  securely  sleep. 

But  opened,  lo,  alas  for  woe! 

Troth-plight  Spouse. 


31 6  THE  NIGHT   AFTER  SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  4. 

The  hand  is  constantly  used  in  Scripture  for  the  power  of 
Qq(J  as — 'thy  hand  is  lifted  up;'  and  frequently  also  for  the 
Spirit  of  God,  as — '  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  strong  upon  me/ 
and  Hhe  hand  of  the  Lord  was  with  them;'  and  as  thetaoving 
of  God's  Spirit  is  ever  accompanied  by  his  providential  dealing, 
there  is  no  inconvenience  in  understanding  the  term  of  both. 
Christ  puts  forth  his  hand,  along  with  his  voice,  to  remove 
the  bolts  that  shut  the  door  of  the  heart — most  probably  in 
chastening,  as  he  does  in  the  singularly  parallel  passage  in  the 
Revelation  (iii.  14-22).  The  Laodicean  church  had  fallen  into 
a  state  similar  to  that  of  the  Bride.  It  is  neither  cold  nor 
hot — she  is  neither  asleep  nor  awake ;  it  is  rich  and  increased 
in  goods  and  in  need  of  nothing — she  is  resting  in  ease,  has 
put  off  her  coat,  washed  her  feet,  and  desires  nothing  but  to 
be  left  alone.  Christ  visits  it  saying,  '  Behold  I  stand  at  the 
door  and  knock';  Christ  visits  her  and  she  says,  'It  is  the 
voice  of  my  Beloved  that  knocketh.'  He  accosts  Laodicea — 
'If  any  man  open  to  me,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  sup  with 
him';  He  addresses  the  Bride, — 'Open  to  me,  my  sister,  for 
my  head  is  filled  with  dew'.  He  designates  the  true  church 
in  Laodicea,  'as  many  as  I  love;'  he  calls  the  Bride  'my  love, 
my  dove.'  'I  rebuke  and  chasten,'  is  the  token  of  his  love 
to  Laodicea;  'his  hand  thrust  it  through  the  door,'  his  token 
to  the  Bride.  This,  along  with  other  Scriptures,  warrants  us 
to  interpret  the  stretching  forth  of  the  hand  as  signifying  co7-- 
7'ection;  and  it  has  been  regarded  by  some  as  the  threatening 
of  entire  removal  from  earth.  But,  along  with  the  rod  of 
power,  there  is  the  hand  of  the  Spirit,  removing  the  inward 
bar  of  the  soul  that  the  whole  heart  may  be  thrown  open  for 
his  reception. 

And  my  boioels  loere  moved  for  him. — The  Bride  is  now  both 
fully  awakened  and  effectually  drawn.  It  is  never  Christ's 
will  nor  way  to  force  an  entrance  into  any  heart  against  that 
heart's  consent;  and  the  Bride  is  now  most  unwilling  that  the 
desire  to  be  admitted,  and  the  admission  itself,  should  be  on 
his  part  alone,  without  a  corresponding  affection  and  opening 
from  her.  Her  soul  is  deeply  moved  within  her.  She  does 
not  yet  either  discern  all  the  sin  that  she  has  just  been  guilty 


CHAP.  V.  5.      THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.       317 

of,  or  suspect  all  its  consequences,  but  she  sees  in  part.  She 
is  moved  with  shame  for  having  loved  her  own  ease,  with  sor- 
row for  having  slighted  her  Lord,  with  alarm  for  the  conse- 
quences, and  with  new  affection  toward  him  whom  her  soul 
loveth ;  and  she  rises  to  unlock  the  door. 

I  rose  up  to  open  to  my  beloved;  and  my  hands  dropped  with 
myrrh,  and  my  fingers  with  sweet- smelling  myrrh  upon  the  handles 
of  the  look. — In  the  literal  scene  there  is  a  brief  interval  between 
the  rising  to  open  and  the  actual  unlocking  of  the  door.  There 
is,  no  doubt,  the  hasty  putting  on  of  the  coat  that  once  looked 
so  formidable,  but  there  is  also  the  hasty  snatching  of  the  box 
of  ointment  to  anoint  those  weary  feet  that  have  stood  long  at 
the  threshold,  and  that  head  which  is  now  filled  with  drops 
but  not  of  aromatic  oil;  and,  her  hands  dropping  myrrh  and 
her  fingers  sweet-smelling  myrrh  upon  the  handles  of  the  lock, 
she  opens  to  her  Beloved. 

The  opening  of  the  door  is  to  welcome  and  to  receive  Christ 
into  the  heart;  it  is  more  than  mere  desire,  it  is  faith  opening 
the  heart  for  Christ  as  its  confidence,  its  hope,  its  peace  and 
joy.  The  myrrh  is  the  unction  from  the  Holy  One  which  all 
believers  enjoy,  the  'anointing'  which  abideth  in  them,  the 
Holy  Spirit  with  his  manifold  graces  in  the  heart;  and  the 
dropping  of  this  myrrh  from  the  hands  and  fingers  upon  the 
handles,  must  be  'the  stirring  up  of  the  gift'  that  is  in  them, 
in  prayer,  in  praise,  and  in  all  devout  affections.  It  is  a  present 
proof  to  the  soul  that  notwithstanding  provocations,  'the  Com- 
forter remaineth';  and  that  the  Spirit,  though  sorely  grieved  by 
the  neglect  of  Christ,  has  not  been  'quenched.'  In  such  a 
case,  such  proof  of  the  indwelling  of  that  Spirit,  which  the 
world  knoweth  not,  becomes  invaluable.  Yet  evidently,  the 
grace  thus  manifested  is  too  much  rested  on  and  gloried  in; 
the  Bride  builds  herself  upon  it,  and  takes  it  as  a  token,  not  of 
mere  acceptance,  but  of  approval ;  nay  commends  herself  on 
account  of  it  as  if  well  prepared  to  meet  her  Lord,  and  as  if 
her  present  meetness  for  him,  and  the  abundant  suitableness  of 
the  welcome  she  now  prepares,  would  more  than  compensate 
for  the  previous  slight.  In  such  a  frame — with  such  faith, 
and  love,  and  spiritual  unction — she  opens  the  closed  door, 


318  THE   NIGHT  AFTER  SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  6. 

never  doubting  that  her  Lord  will  be  far  within  the  chamber 
of  her  heart  the  instant  that  its  portals  are  unlocked  for  his 
admission. 

Ye  gates,  lift  up  your  heads  I  ye  doors, 

Doors  that  do  last  for  aye, 
Be  lifted  up !  that  so  the  King 

Of  glory  enter  may. 

Psalm  xxiv. 

But  a  sad  surprise  ensues — a  cold  blank — a  dead  silence !  The 
King  of  glory,  with  'his  head  as  the  most  fine  gold,  with  eyes 
as  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters,  with  his  countenance  like 
Lebanon,'  enters  not ;  there  is  neither  voice,  nor  any  to  answer, 
nor  any  that  regardeth ! 

/  opened  to  my  beloved,  hut  my  beloved  had  withdrawn  himself, 
and  was  gone. — Strange ! — impossible ! — it  cannot  be  that  he, 
who  knocked  when  I  was  sleeping  and  called  when  I  was  re- 
fusing, is  gone,  now  when  he  might  not  only  find  an  open  door, 
but  my  whole  heart  seeking  him !  It  cannot  be ! — let  me  heark- 
en— he  will  call  again — he  must  be  here  even  at  the  door, 
though  I  have  not  seen  him  in  the  darkness  of  the  night — he 
must  be  calling  even  now,  though  I  have  not  heard  him  while 
unfastening  the  bolts.     Hist ! 

My  soul  failed  when  he  spake — or  rather,  till  he  spake — failed 
for  his  speaking.  She  stands  on  the  threshold,  still,  silent, 
breathless,  lest  her  footstep,  her  speech,  her  very  breath  should 
interrupt  the  voice  of  her  Beloved.  With  mingled  desire  and 
fear,  she  listens  till  her  soul  faints  within  her.  The  silence 
now  becomes  insupportable,  and  she  breaks  it  herself. 

I  called  him,  but  he  gave  me  no  answer. — Can  it  be? — he  must 
have  heard,  and  why  does  he  not  reply  ?  he  must  have  heard, 
and  is  he  angry  now  at  the  voice  of  'his  love,  his  dove,  his  un- 
defiled?'  Christ  is  not  angry  because  the  Bride  now  seeks  and 
calls,  but  he  was  and  is  provoked  because  'he  called  and  she 
refused,  he  stretched  out  his  hands  and  she  regarded  not.'  Then 
why  did  he  not  rather  leave  her  when  she  was  slothful,  sleep- 
ing, and  self-satisfied?  In  loving-kindness  and  faithfulness^ 
he  left  her  not,  and  for  her  own  safety  he  would  not  leave  her ; 


CHAP.  V.  6.      THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.       319 

for  liad  he  departed  then,  the  slumber  would  have  sunk  into 
deep  unconscious  sleep,  and  sleep  into  death.  He  did  not  and 
would  not  leave  her  thus,  and  had  she  continued  slumberino- 
he  would  still  have  continued  knocking.  But  why,  then,  does 
he  withdraw  from  her  now?  because  he  can  with  safety,  and 
because  he  must  in  faithfulness.  The  awakened  soul  may  be 
trusted  now — a  little  while  ago  it  slighted  a  present,  but  will 
now  seek  an  absent.  Lord.  It  may  be  safely  corrected  now, 
for  now  it  'can  be  chastened  yet  not  killed;'  and  it  must  assur- 
edly be  proved  now  whether  its  profession  of  love  is  sincere  or 
superficial.  If  the  love  is  false,  let  it  perish ;  if  it  is  real,  it  will 
stand  the  trial. 

Reader!  are  you  one  of  those  who  never  know  what  it  is  to 
seek  an  absent  and  withdrawing  Lord?  or,  being  one  of  God's 
own  children,  is  your  experience  always  of  Christ  who  stands 
at  your  door  and  knocks,  and  never  leaves  you  to  seek  him 
sorrowing?  Have  you  concluded  that  you  are  walking  in  a 
way  well-pleasing  to  Him,  because  there  never  is  any  long  in- 
termission of  some  measure  of  fellowship  between  your  soul 
and  Christ?  If  you  are  not  deceived  in  this,  it  proves  accept- 
ance and  a  state  of  salvation,  but  no  more;  it  gives  no  evidence 
of  approval  of  your  walk,  but,  possibly,  testifies  to  the  contrary. 
Which  of  these  two  does  Christ  commend  most? — we  say  not, 
love  most,  for  the  love  may  be  held  as  equal — but  approve 
most,  and  chiefly  delight  in?  Was  it  the  Bride  slighting  him 
in  her  slumber,  or  calling  to  him  in  her  distress?  The  former 
was  positively  offending,  the  latter  giving  him  intense  delight 
— '  I  love  them  that  love  me — thou  wentest  after  me  in  the 
wilderness.'  Yet  mark  how  he  maintains  unbroken  commun- 
ion, such  as  it  is,  with  the  offender — most  tender  and  affection- 
ate on  his  part — most  self-complacent  and  self-indulgent  on 
hers.  Mark  again  how  all  communion  is  broken  off*,  the  in- 
stant that  the  provocation  ceases  and  the  offensive  indolence  is 
gone.  He  knocks  no  more,  speaks  no  more,  stands  no  more, 
thrusts  no  more  his  hand  through  the  door,  answers  no  more 
when  he  is  entreated,  but  is  as  if  he  knew  not,  saw  not,  heard 
not,  heeded  not.  And  why? — because  he  loved  not? — nay, 
but  because  he  loved  much,  and  esteemed  much. 


320  THE   NIGHT   AFTER  SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  6. 

Will  you  therefore  learn,  what  few  seem  to  apprehend — 
not  merely  that  you  may  be  in  darkness,  and  as  much  a  child 
as  when  you  were  in  light — but  that  in  darkness  and  in  deser- 
tion you  may  be  greatly  more  acceptable  to  Christ  than  you 
were  when  enjoying  a  certain  light  and  fellowship,  and  may 
be  left  long  in  darkness  because  your  state  is  now  more  pleasing 
to  him?  Will  you  further  learn,  that  this  benighted  sorrow 
and  loneliness  may  be  such  as  you  would  for  no  bribe  exchange 
again  for  your  former  light  and  comfort  ?  Does  that  trembling, 
weeping  Bride,  desire  now  to  return  to  her  couch  of  sloth, 
where  she  reclined  as  a  queen  and  saw  no  sorrow — to  that 
royal  state  in  which  she  kept  her  Lord  knocking  in  the  cold 
night  while  she  talked  with  him  from  within  in  luxurious 
ease?  If  she  returned  and  fell  asleep  again,  would  not  he  cer- 
tainly return  again  and  knock?  Doubtless  he  would,  because 
such  a  sleep  undisturbed  would  end  in  death  ;  and  we  fear  that 
many  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  base  enough  to  continue 
in  such  a  position,  or  return  to  it,  and  even  to  glory  in  it,  be- 
cause in  their  great  listlessness  they  are  not  wholly  without 
fellowship  and  comfort.  But  will  the  true  Bride  of  Christ, 
once  awakened,  be  satisfied  with  so  cold,  so  formal,  so  distant 
an  intercourse  again?  to  converse  with  Jesus  through  the  shut 
door  of  her  heart,  with  her  spirit  all  but  asleep  within?  or 
will  she  consent  to  find  her  own  partial  comfort  in  his  great 
dishonor? — She  would  rather  far,  go  out  seeking  him  in  the 
cold  midnight;  she  would  rather  kiss  the  hard  boards  of  the 
door  at  which  his  pierced  hands  had  knocked,  and  the  stones 
of  the  threshold  on  which  his  feet  had  stood.  The  lamented 
absence  is  better  than  the  partial  presence  of  Christ;  yet  one 
wise  virgin  sleeping  at  ease,  with  Christ  standing  and  knocking 
without,  condemns,  despises,  and  pities  a  sister  virgin  and  one 
far  wiser,  who  is  following  Christ  in  sorrow  and  darkness  and 
intense  desire! 

O  turn  thee  unto  me,  O  God, 

Have  mercy  me  upon; 
Because  I  solitary  am, 

And  in  affliction. 


CHAP.  V.  7.      THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.       321 

Enlarged  the  griefs  are  of  mine  heart; 

Me  from  distress  relieve. 
See  mine  affliction  and  my  pain, 

And  all  mj^  sins  forgive. — Psalm  xxv. 

The  watchmen  that  went  about  the  city  found  me. — The  keepers 
that  guard  the  walls — the  ministers  and  elders  of  the  church 
appointed  by  Christ  to  watch  our  souls,  to  maintain  the  comely 
order  of  Jerusalem  within,  and  to  guard  her  walls  against  foes 
without — help  not  the  Bride  in  her  distress,  and  what  is  worse, 
'they  came  not  to  the  help  of  the  Lord'  in  her  refusal  of  Christ. 
She  had  fallen  asleep  while  the  Bridegroom  tarried,  and  they 
did  not  with  holy  jealousy  for  his  honor  'reprove,  rebuke,  and 
exhort  with  all  long-suffering  and  doctrine';  but  had  been 
'dumb  dogs  that  cannot  bark,  sleeping,  lying  down,  and  loving 
to  slumber,'  although  in  their  Lord's  absence  the  serpent  was 
'beguiling  souls  under  their  charge  from  the  simplicity  of 
Christ.'  Now  when  they  have  suffered  the  Bride  to  fall  asleep, 
and  when  Christ  comes  himself  to  awake  her,  and  calls  earnestly 
and  knocks  loudly  at  the  door,  they  are  either  themselves 
asleep  and  ignorant  of  all  that  is  occurring,  or  in  indolence  or 
indifference  they  ignore  it  all.  But  now  they  find  the  Bride 
searching  through  the  streets  for  the  Beloved  of  her  soul — seek- 
ing in  ordinances,  in  two  or  three  meeting  together,  in  public 
prayer  and  the  preaching  of  the  word,  in  intercourse  with  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  and  private  Christians,  in  consultation 
with  ministers  and  elders.  She  opens  her  distress  only  to  ob- 
tain relief — she  would  gladly  hide  it,  but  like  the  ointment  of 
the  right  hand  it  bewrayeth  itself,  in  her  conversation,  her 
habits,  her  very  gait  and  visage;  for  it  is  a  consuming  fire  that 
will  neither  quench  nor  conceal,  a  fountain  of  sadness  which 
the  bounds  of  the  inner  spirit  cannot  confine,  an  absorbing  sea 
of  sorrow  which  swallows  up  alike  all  other  joys  and  all  other 
griefs.  The  secure  and  comfort-loving  watchmen  are  not  ready 
for  such  a  case ;  and  none,  indeed,  is  equal  to  it  save  Him  alone 
who  has  'the  tongue  of  the  learned  to  speak  a  word  in  season 
to  the  weary.'  But  the  slumbering  shepherds  neither  know 
how  to  meet  it,  and  deal  skilfully  with  it,  nor  can  they  endure 
the  trouble  and  the  reproof  which  it  brings.     They  would  this 


322  THE   NIGHT   AFTER   SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  7. 

Bride  were  quietly  and  safely  asleep  along  with  the  other  souls 
around  her — who  are  disturbed  by  no  such  unseasonable  and 
unsettling  searchings  of  heart;  and  did  she  but  go  quietly 
home  again,  they  would  let  her  alone.  But  that  will  never 
satisfy — come  of  it  what  will,  she  must  attain  her  object — she 
is  so  thoroughly  distressed  herself  that  she  cares  little,  too 
little,  for  disturbing  others,  and  the  quiet  of  the  citizens  is 
broken  by  the  wail  of  her  sorrow. 

They  smote  me,  they  wounded  me;  the  keepers  of  the  walls  took 
atoay  my  veil  from  me. — Were  it  the  case  of  some  poor  Gentile 
stranger  without  Jerusalem's  walls  seeking  even  unseasonable 
admission — were  some  one,  ignorant,  careless,  or  profligate, 
greatly  distressed  for  a  soul  lost,  and  for  a  Saviour  not  found, 
they  would  give  what  aid  they  could.  They  could  in  their 
condition  give  no  very  helpful  directions  by  w^hich  the  Be- 
loved might  be  found,  nor  would  they  thread  with  their  night- 
lamp  the  stranger's  way  through  the  streets  and  lanes  of  the 
city  to  the  dwelling  of  the  good  Physician;  but  they  would  at 
least  bid  the  inquirer  God  speed,  and  encourage  an  indefatiga- 
ble search.  But  this  case  is  entirely  different — this  soul  is  safe, 
and  what  more  can  be  desired?  this  soul  is  believing,  devout, 
consistent,  dutiful  to  God  and  to  man.  Why  trouble  itself 
and  others  with  needless  and  morbid  anxieties  w^iich  it  is  im- 
possible either  to  understand  or  to  remedy,  and  which  contain 
no  element  of  utility  or  of  health?  They  have  ready  on  their 
lips  various  sound  advices,  which  they  try  in  vain.  'Only 
believe  and  be  at  rest' — 'I  think  I  have  believed,  I  think  I 
have  opened  for  Him  the  door  of  my  heart,  but  I  find  no  rest, 
for  I  find  not  him  whom  my  soul  loveth.'  'Then  pray' — 'I 
have  done  it — I  called  and  he  'gave  no  answer.'  'But  do  it 
in  the  Spirit' — 'In  the  Spirit  I  have  sought  to  do  it — my 
hands  dropped  with  myrrh  and  my  fingers  with  sweet-smell- 
ing myrrh  on  the  handles  of  the  lock.'  'Then  go  work,  and 
all  will  be  right' — 'I  have  sought  in  works  and  in  gifts — I 
have  risen  and  gone  about  the  city,  in  the  houses  of  the  poor 
and  the  needy,  I  sought  him  but  I  found  him  not.'  And 
nothing  better,  haply,  could  be  said;  but  the  void  continues 
unfilled,  the  aching  heart  uncured;  and,  grieved  and  offended, 


CHAP.  V.  7.      THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.        323 

the  watchmen  bid  her  go  home  and  rest  and  take  her  ease,  till 
her  husband  return.  But  this  is  just  what  she  will  in  no  wise 
agree  to,  but  will  seek  him  still — '  Thou  art  my  God !  early  will 
I  seek  thee,  my  soul  followeth  hard  after  thee,  and  thy  right 
hand  upholdeth  me.' 

My  tears  have  unto  me  been  meat, 

Both  in  the  night  and  day, 
While  unto  me  continually, 

Where  is  thy  God  ?  they  say. — Psalm  xlii. 

There  is  nothing  that  is  so  useless,  ungenial,  and  contrary 
to  a  troubled  conscience,  as  a  ministry  either  unconverted  or 
at  ease  in  Zion ;  and  there  is  nothing  that  so  disconcerts  and 
'torments'  such  a  ministry  as  a  conscience  which  nothing  will 
pacify  but  Jesus  found  and  possessed.  Ministers  without  grace, 
or  without  grace  in  exercise,  have  no  sympathy  for  the  wounded 
soul,  for  in  condemning  itself  it  doubly  condemns  them.  Find- 
ing their  dealing  ineffectual  to  suppress  conviction,  they  begin 
to  smite  with  the  rod  of  the  mouth;  when  the  smitten  soul 
still  seeks,  they  smite  so  as  to  pierce  and  wound;  and  when 
the  wounded  soul  perseveres,  they  tear  away  the  veil,  and  ex- 
pose to  shame  and  reproach,  as  if  the  mourner  only  feigned  to 
be  Christ's  chaste  spouse.  And  this  follower  of  the  Lamb 
smitten,  wounded,  stripped,  seeks  as  she  never  sought  before, 
admires  as  she  never  admired  before,  and  loves  as  she  never 
loved  till  now.  She  has  no  care  how  she  will  put  on  her 
beautiful  coat  now,  when  she  runs  in  rags  through  Jerusalem ; 
she  has  no  thought  for  defiling  her  delicate  feet,  when  she 
wades  through  the  miry  lanes;  she  has  no  complacency  in  her 
fingers  dropping  myrrh,  when,  with  hands  bleeding  from  the 
watchmen's  blows,  she  knocks  wherever  her  Lord  may  haply 
be  found.  She  is  in  right  earnest  now,  self  and  ease  forgot, 
self  and  comeliness  forgot;  Christ! — Christ! — none  but  Christ! 
is  all  her  desire  and  all  her  pursuit. 

Already  she  has  more  than  recompense  for  the  loss  of  all 
her  former  comfort  and  respect — her  self-respect  and  her  respect 
in  Jerusalem;  for  she  is  following,  admiring,  loving,  an  ab- < 
sent  hidden  Christ,  a  thousand  times  more  glorious  than  the 
u 


324  THE   NIGHT   AFTER   SUNSET.  CHAP.  V.  8. 

Christ  of  her  former  fellowship.  When  he  conversed  with 
her,  and  she  with  him,  through  her  waking  sleep  and  her  closed 
doors,  she  could  never  by  any  effort  have  described  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  as  she  describes  him  now — 'the  chief  among  ten 
thousand.'  So  it  ever  is — the  soul  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  is 
happier  in  following  a  greater  good  than  in  possessing  a  less; 
in  seeking  a  Saviour  so  apprehended  as  more  nearly  to  agree 
with  his  own  majesty  and  glory,  than  in  finding  a  Saviour  re- 
duced to  the  meanness  and  poverty  of  the  carnal  mind's  con- 
ception. The  Christ  who  stood  knocking  at  the  door  is  widely 
different  from  the  Christ  now  lamented  after,  else  he  had 
never  been  detained  there;  and  the  soul  would  not,  if  it  could, 
recover  simply  that  Christ  again — the  very  same  Christ  indeed 
it  would  have,  but  very  differently  and  very  gloriously  re- 
vealed and  apprehended.  The  Bride  admires  him  now  v/hen 
absent  as  she  had  never  seen  him  when  present;  her  descrip- 
tion is  not  from  mere  memory,  but  from  an  eye  enlightened 
to  discover,  and  a  heart  enlarged  to  love ;  and  nothing  will 
satisfy  her  but  to  possess  the  very  Christ  now  so  apprehended, 
so  admired,  so  loved.  The  present  sorrowing  and  wistful  pur- 
suing is  greater  wealth  than  her  former  embracing. 

One  thing  I  of  the  Lord  desired, 

And  will  seek  to  obtain, 
That  all  days  of  my  life  I  may 

Within  God's  house  remain. 

That  I  the  beauty  of  the  Lord, 

Behold  may  and  admire; 
And  that  I  in  his  holy  place 

May  rev'rently  inquire. — Psalm  xxvii. 

She  passes  from  Jerusalem's  watchmen,  and  turns  to  Jeru- 
salem's daughters,  though  we  have  partly  anticipated  their 
intercourse. 

I  charge  you,  0  daughters  of  Jerusalem!  if  ye  find  my  beloved, 
that  ye  tell  him,  thai  I  am  sick  of  love. — This  charge  supposes 
that  some  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  may  find  Jesus  sooner 
than  his  sorrowing  bride.  An  inquiring  soul  may  have  Christ 
revealed  for  the  first  time,  before  he  is  revealed  anew  to  the 


CHAP.  Y.  8.      THE  SORROWING  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KING.        325 

soul  that  has  forsaken  him  aud  grieved  his  Spirit,  aud  may 
pray  in  joy  for  a  guide  and  instructor  who  is  himself  in  sorrow. 
The  sickness  now,  and  the  sickness  at  the  close  of  the  first  Song, 
though  expressed  by  the  same  words  and  resulting  in  similar 
effects,  are  produced  by  opposite  causes.  Then,  it  was  fainting 
under  joy — now,  it  is  fainting  under  grief;  then,  it  was  swoon- 
ing away  through  a  glorious  presence  more  than  heart  or  frame 
can  endure — now,  it  is  sinking  and  swooning  through  a  la- 
mented absence  more  than  mind  or  body  can  sustain ;  then, 
the  soul  was  sick  of  love,  loving  much  and  obtaining  a  greater 
return  of  love  than  it  could  receive — now,  the  soul  is  sick  of 
love,  loving  much,  but  void  and  fainting  for  want  of  any  re- 
sponse. In  both  cases,  it  is  the  loveliness  of  the  Beloved  and 
the  soul's  love  to  Him  that  causes  the  sickness ;  but  in  the  one, 
it  is  sickness  through  excess  of  delight ;  in  the  other,  it  is  sick- 
ness through  excess  of  pain.  Yet  it  is  the  same  Beloved — the 
very  same;  and  the  same  heart — the  very  same.  The  heart 
that  is  incapable  of  the  one,  is  incapable  of  the  other ;  for  they 
are  but  different  breathings  of  the  same  divine  affection. 


326       THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  9-16. 


XVII. 

THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED. 

THE  WHITE  AND  RED — THE  CHIEFTAINSHIP — THE  MOST  FINE  GOLD — 
THE  raven's  plumes — THE  DOVES  BY  THE  WATERS — THE  ARO- 
MATIC FLOWERS — THE  LILIES — THE  GOLD  RINGS — THE  BRIGHT 
IVORY — THE  MARBLE  PILLARS — LEBANON  AND  ITS  CEDARS— THE 
SWEETNESS — AND   ENTIRE   LOVELINESS. 

What  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved  ?  O  thou  fairest  among 
women !  what  is  thy  beloved  more  than  another  beloved,  that  thou  dost 
so  charge  us?  My  beloved  is  white  a.nd  ruddy,  the  chiefest  among  ten 
thousand.  His  head  is  as  the  most  fine  gold;  his  locks  are  bushy,  and 
black  as  a  raven :  His  eyes  are  as  the  eyes  of  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters, 
washed  with  milk,  and  fitly  set:  His  cheeks  are  as  a  bed  of  spices,  as 
sweet  flowers;  his  lips  like  lilies,  dropping  sweet-smelling  myrrh:  His 
hands  are  as  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl ;  his  belly  is  as  bright  ivory 
overlaid  toith  sapphires :  His  legs  are  as  pillars  of  marble,  set  upon  sockets 
of  fine  gold;  his  countenance  is  as  Lebanon,  excellent  as  the  cedars  :  His 
mouth  is  most  sweet;  yea,  he  is  altogether  lovely.  This  is  my  beloved, 
and  this  is  my  friend,  0  daughters  of  Jerusalem ! — Chap.  v.  9-16. 

THE  WHITE   AND  THE   RED. 

3fy  beloved  is  volute  and  ruddy. — The  inquiry  of  the  daughters 
of  Jerusalem  in  answer  to  the  charge  of  the  Bride,  elicits  from 
her  the  noble  description  of  the  Beloved  that  follows — a  de- 
scription radically  the  product  of  previous  communion  with 
the  Lord,  but  the  immediate  fruit  of  admiring  sorrow.  White 
and  red  are,  in  colours,  the  chief  characteristics  of  health  and 
beauty  in  the  human  countenance  and  form,  and  on  this  account 
selected  to  sustain  the  allegory.  But  the  inspired  writer  was 
not  describing  any  son  of  man  that  had  yet  appeared  on  earth, 
but  'him  whose  name  was  Ointment  poured  forth,'  of  whom 
David  had  sung  as  Jehovah's  Anointed  King,  and  his  own 
Lord.  It  is  possible  that  Solomon  meant  to  express  no  more 
by  the  words,  than  the  perfect  beauty  of  the  Messiah;  yet 


CHAP.  V.  10.  THE    WHITE    AXD    THE    RED.  327 

when  the  prophets  testified  of  Jesus,  it  is  expressly  written 
that  'they  spake  beforehand  of  the  suiferings  of  Christ  and  of 
the  glory  that  should  follow ;'  as  if  those  sufferings  entered 
largely  into  their  descriptions.  Who  can  tell  what  thought 
may  have  occurred  to  a  mind  so  deeply  reflective  as  Solomon's, 
while  he  looked  on  the  red  blood  of  the  snowy  lambs  stream- 
ing on  Jehovah's  altar,  and  when  he  pondered  the  uplifting  of 
Abraham's  knife  against  his  only  son ;  how  nearly  he  may 
have  approached  in  thought  to  the  utterance  of  Isaiah  regard- 
ing Him  who  was  to  be  'led  as  a  Lamb  to  the  slaughter';  or 
what  his  interpretation  might  be  of  his  own  description  of 
'the  beasts  which  Wisdom  killed  when  she  furnished  her  table'? 

The  white  and  the  red  are  given  as  the  two  combined  yet 
contrasted  elements,  by  which  the  Bridegroom  of  the  Church 
may  be  recognised  and  distinguished  from  every  'other  be- 
loved'— all  other  objects  of  affection  and  regard  among  the 
sons  of  men.  The  Bride  is  'the  Lamb's  wife';  the  espousal  is 
'the  marriage  of  the  Lamb';  the  wedding  feast  'the  marriage- 
supper  of  the  Lamb.'  'The  Lamb'  is  specially  the  Bride- 
groom's name;  and  no  other  name  of  Jesus  is  so  intimately 
associated  with  his  marriage  and  his  Bride,  The  Lamb,  in  a 
word,  is  the  Bridal  name  of  Jesus ;  but  the  Lamb  is  also  his 
sacrificial  name,  and  always  associated  with  his  death.  His 
name  of  marriage,  and  his  name  of  sacrifice,  are  one,  and  that 
name  is  '  the  Lamb.'  Now,  what  are  the  characteristics  of  the 
Lamb?  Meekness,  silence,  and  other  features  pertain  to  the 
emblem,  taken  in  its  fullness;  but  as  regards  appearance,  with 
which  alone  we  have  now  to  deal,  the  features  are  two,  and 
only  two.  White  and  red  are  the  uniform  and  unvarying 
tokens  by  which  he  is  to  be  recognised — 'the  blood  of  Christ 
as  of  a  Lamb  without  spot  and  blemish — in  the  midst  of  the 
throne  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain.'  The  Church  on  earth 
describes  him  by  'the  blood  of  a  Lamb  without  spot' — the 
Church  in  heaven  as  'a  Lamb  that  had  been  slain';  all  the 
bridal  virgins  in  earth  and  heaven  unite  in  declaring,  '  My  be- 
loved is  white  and  ruddy.' 

The  Beloved  of  the  Church  is  'white'  in  his  human  nature, 
'holy,  harmless,  undefiled';  in  the  midst  of  .sinners,  yet  'sep- 


328         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  10. 

arate  from  sinners';  amongst  the  dark  Ethiopians,  'aNazarite 
whiter  than  snow';  with  the  mire  of  sin  all  around  him,  yet 
himself  'without  spot  or  blemish.'  He  is  white  with  the  in- 
finite purity  of  the  divine  nature,  compared  with  whose  bright- 
ness Hhe  heavens  are  not  clean,'  and  in  whose  presence  'the 
angels  veil  their  faces'  as  uncomely.  He  is  white  with  the 
glorious  union  of  both,  the  "divine  purity  not  swallowing  up 
the  human,  the  human  not  impairing  the  divine;  but  the  full- 
ness of  the  Go<:lhead  bodily,  shining  gloriously  through  the 
white  raiment  of  a  spotless  humanity.  The  Beloved  is  white 
as  no  saint  in  heaven — as  no  angel  is — '  the  Lamb  without  spot.' 

But  he  is  also  'ruddy' — red  with  his  own  red  blood — the 
only  pure  and  precious  blood  that  ever  was  shed,  or  that  ever 
flowed  in  human  veins ;  for  all  other  blood  has  the  hereditary 
taint  of  sin.  Every  other  member  of  the  human  family  is  red 
with  the  blood  of  others — red  with  his  brother's  blood  whom 
he  has  hated — and  his  sin  is  therefore  red  as  crimson ;  but 
Jesus,  free  from  the  blood  of  all,  is  red  with  his  own  blood 
'shed  for  many.'  The  spotless  whiteness  makes  the  blood 
precious;  and  the  red  in  him  is  as  j)ure  as  the  white,  and  makes 
the  glory  of  the  whiteness  ours — for  he  could  never  be  'our 
beloved,'  except  he  were  both  '  white  and  ruddy.'  Within  the 
veil  there  is  .no  other  blood — none  in  heaven  save  the  blood  of 
the  Lamb.  Angels  are  white,  not  white  and  red;  saints  are 
white,  for  they  'have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb/  but  they  are  not  white  and  red. 
The  blood  of  martyrs  has  been  shed  on  earth,  its  voice  arises 
to  heaven,  but  the  blood  ascends  not  thither,  for  no  blood  is 
seen  within  the  veil  but  that  of  'the  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain, 
in  the  midst  of  the  throne.' 

The  dying  malefactor,  redeemed  by  the  Lamb  for  his  Bride, 
knew  the  Beloved  by  these  two  tokens,  when  the  red  blood 
streamed  before  him,  consecrating  'the  great  High  Priest'  on 
his  head,  his  hands,  his  feet,  and  his  side.  The  penitent  re- 
cognised the  whiteness  of  the  Lamb  in  his  spotless  manhood — 
'he  hath  done  nothing  amiss;'  in  his  glorious  Godhead — 'Lord! 
remember  me  when  thou  comest  into  thy  kingdom';  but  it 
was  the  flowing  blood  that  emboldened  him  to  look  on  that 


CHAP.  V.  10.  THE   CHIEFTAINSHIP.  329 

Holy  One  as  his  Beloved.  The  doubting  Thomas  would  not 
own  his  Beloved,  except  he  saw  him  both  white  and  ruddy. 
The  other  disciples  testified  that  they  'had  seen  the  Lord' — 
a  glorious  one  shining  in  brightness,  whom  at  first  they  took  to 
be  a  spirit.  Didymus  doubted  not  that  they  jaad  beheld  some 
being  gloriously  white,  but  my  Beloved,  said  he,  is  white  and 
red,  and  none  other  can  I  own  for  mine — 'except  I  see  in  his 
hands  the  print  of  the  nails  and  thrust  my  hand  into  his  side, 
I  will  not  believe.'  The  Beloved  answered, — 'Thomas!  reach 
hitb^r  thy  finger  and  behold  my  hands,  and  reach  hither  thy 
h'vrid  and  thrust  it  into  my  side';  and  he  instantly  exclaimed, 
-  -'My  Lord  and  my  God'! — this  is  my  Beloved,  for  he  is 
'  rhite  and  ruddy.' 

THE  CHIEFTAINSHIP. 

The  chiefest  among  ten  thousand. — In  himself  excelling  all 
others,  '  fairer  than  the  children  of  men,'  brighter  than  '  tlie 
morning  stars'  that  celebrated  his  birth;  'the  first  and  the 
last,'  the  first  and  none  before  him,  the  last  and  none  after 
him,  none  like,  none  second,  none  next,  none  other — '  The  Be- 
loved is  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand.'  Among  ten  thou- 
aud  kings  he  is  the  One  Anointed  King,  'the  King  of  kings'; 
among  ten  thousand  lords,  the  'one  Lord  over  all,  the  Lord 
of  lords';  among  ten  thousand  leaders,  the  one  'Leader  and 
Commander  of  the  people.'  Among  ten  thousand  captains 
in  the  Lord's  host,  he  is  the  one  'Captain  of  Salvation'; 
among  ten  thousand  conquerors  with  palms  in  their  hands, 
the  one  Conqueror  over  sin,  death,  and  hell,  who  proclaims  'I 
have  overcome.'  Among  ten  thousand  holy  ones,  he  is  'the 
Holy  One  of  God ';  among  ten  thousand  shepherds,  he  is  '  the 
Good  Shepherd,  the  Chief  Shepherd,  the  Great  Shepherd  of  the 
sheep.'  Among  ten  thousand  priests  unto  God,  he  is  the  '  one 
High  Priest,  consecrated  for  evermore';  among  ten  thousand 
prophets,  the  one  Prophet,  'that  Prophet'  of  whom  Moses 
spake.  Among  ten  thousand  first-born  in  the  general  assem- 
bly, he  is  the  one  'First-born  of  the  Father';  among  ten  thou- 
sand born  out  of  death,  'the  First-born  from  the  dead';  among 


330         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  10. 

ten  thousand  holy  creatures,  '  the  First-born  of  every  creature.' 
Amohg  ten  thousand  risen  ones,  he  is  Hhe  Resurrection'; 
among  ten  thousand  living  he  is  Hhe  Life';  among  ten  thou- 
sand names  in  heaven  or  in  earth,  his  is  'the  one  Name  by 
which  men  must  be  saved.'     Among  ten  thousand  brothers, 
he  is  the  'Brother  born  for  adversity';  among  ten  thousand 
friends  the  'Friend  thatsticketh  closer  than  a  brother';  among 
ten  thousand  kinsmen,  the  'Kinsman  Redeemer,  the  next  of 
kin.'     Among  ten  thousand  advocates,  he  is  the  one  'Advo- 
cate with  the  Father';  among  ten  thousand  judges,  '  the  Judge 
of  the  world  in  righteousness.'     Among  ten  thousand  phy- 
sicians, he  is  'the  Physician'  of  the  sick  for  whom  there  is  no 
healer;  among  ten  thousand  deliverers,  'the  Saviour  of  the 
lost' ;  among  ten  thousand  philanthropists,  the  Philanthropic 
One,  the  'Friend  of  sinners.'     Among  ten  thousand  coun- 
sellors, he  is  '  the  Wonderful,  the  Counsellor';  among  ten  thou- 
sand eloquent  orators,  it  is  He  that  'spake  as  never  man  spake.' 
Among  ten  thousand  truthful   witnesses,   '  he  is  the  true  and 
faithful  Witness';  among  ten  thousand  martyrs,  the  Martyr 
who  '  witnessed  a  good  confession.'    Among  ten  thousand  meek 
and  lowly,  he  is  'the  meek  and  lowly  One';  among  ten  thou- 
sand valiant  ones.  He  'stood  alone  in  the  breach'  in  the  day 
of  battle.     Among  ten  thousand  wise,  he  is  '  the  Wisdom  of 
God';  among  ten  thousand  just,  he  is  'that^ust  One.'     Among 
ten  thousand  mourners,  he  is  'the  Man  of  sorrows';  among  ten 
thousand  joyful  souls,  he  is  'Anointed  with  the  oil  of  gladness 
above  his  fellows.'     Among  ten  thousand  stars,  he  is  '  the  Sun 
shining  in  its  strength ';  among  ten  thousand  trees  of  right- 
eousness, Hhe  one  true  Vine';  among  ten  thousand  branches, 
'the  Branch  of  the  Lord';  among  ten  thousand  roses  in  the 
desert,  'the  Rose  of  Sharon';  among  ten  thousand  lilies  in 
the  midst  of  thorns,  'the  Lily  of  the  Valleys';  among  ten 
thousand  sheep,  'the  Lamb  of  God.'     Among  ten  thousand 
faithful  servants,  he  is  'the  Servant  of  the  Father';  among 
ten  thousand  children,  he  is  'the  Father's  Only-Begoften  and 
Well-beloved  Son.'      'This  is  my  Beloved  and  this  is  my 
friend,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem ! — it  pleased  the  Father 
that  in  him  should  all  fullness  dwell,  and  that  in  all  things 


CHAP.  V.  II.  THE   MOST   FINE   GOLD.  331 

he  should  have  the  pre-eminence — he  is  the  Chiefest  among 
ten  thousand.' 

He  4s  the  chief  of  ten  thousand/  the  Bride  declares,  but  she 
speaks  also  of  another  chief  of  a  different  character.    Throuo-h 
the  mouth  of  one  of  the  first  of  the  virgins  she  announces, — 
'  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  I 
am  chief.'     How  sad  the  pre-eminence  in  guilt ! — how  shame- 
ful to  be  chief  among  transgressors !     Yet  the  Chief  among 
ten  thousand  holy  ones  came  to  save  the  chief  among  ten  thou- 
sand sinners.     '  This  is  my  friend  and  this  is  my  beloved  ;' — 
I  the  chief  of  ten  thousand  offenders,  he  the  chief  of  ten  thou- 
sand deliverers;  and  we  meet  together,  for  'my  Beloved  is 
mine  and  I  am  his.'     The  greatness  of  salvation  and  the  great- 
ness of  transgression,  by  their  very  contrast,  suit  each  other; 
the  chief  of  .sinners  needing  the  Chief  of  saviours — the  Chief 
of  saviours  sufficient  for  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  condescend- 
ing, as  it  were,  to  need  an  amount  of  loss  in  us  corresponding 
to  the  amount  of  salvation  in  him.     Are  you  chief  among  sin- 
ners?— among  ten  thousand  transgressors  the  boldest,  among 
ten  thousand  liars  the  most  false,  among  ten  thousand  drunk- 
ards the  most  brutish,  among  ten  thousand  worldlings  the  most 
sordid,  among  ten  thousand  formalists  the  most  Pharisaic, 
among  ten  thousand  slanderers  the  most  malicious,  amono-  ten 
thousand  blasphemers  the  most  ungodly,  among  ten  thousand 
cumbcrers  of  the  ground  the  most  worthless,  among  ten  thou- 
sand triflers  with  eternity  the  most  foolish,  among  ten  thou- 
sand lovers  of  pleasure  the  most  thoughtless,  among  ten  thou- 
sand earthworms  the  most  grovelling,  among  ten  thousand 
sleepers  the  most  slothful,  among  ten  thousand  sick  the  most 
incurable,  among  ten  thousand  condemned  the  guiltiest — chief 
among  sinners  ?     The  Father  sends  the  Son,  the  Son  presents 
himself  as  'the  Chiefest  among  ten  thousand,' gives  himself 
for  you,  gives  himself  to  you  if  you  will  receive  him,  and  has 
'  come  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom  you  are  chief.' 

THE  MOST  FINE  GOLD. 

JSis  head  is  as  the  most  fine  gold. — From  the  analogy  of  the 


S32         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  11. 

word  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  general  opinion  of  di- 
vines is  just,  when  they  interpret  the  'head'  of  the  divine  na- 
ture of  Ciirist ;  for  '  the  head  of  every  man  is  Christ,  and  the 
head  of  Christ  is  God.'  In  Christ  himself  that  which  is  su- 
perior, greater,  higher,  is  the  head;  and  that  is  his  Godhead — 
not  separate  from  his  humanity,  but  united  to  it  and  one  with 
it,  as  the  head  in  union  with  the  members.  This  view  is  in- 
troduced by  the  very  first  promise  of  the  coming  Messiah,  in 
the  doom  threatened  to  Satan  through  the  promised  seed — 
'It  shall  bruise  thy  head  and  thou  shalt  bruise  his  heel.'  It 
is  the  serpent  that  is  addressed,  and  the  head  of  the  serpent  is 
Satan ;  the  greater,  the  superior,  the  spiritual  partaker  in  this 
work  of  temptation,  is  the  Devil;  and  this  'head'  is  to  be 
'  bruised,'  while  bruising  the  Messiah's  '  heel.'  The  heel,  again, 
of  Satan  was  the  serpent,  Judas,  Caiaphas,  Pilate,  the  world. 
In  the  conflict,  Messiah  bruised  not  that  heel ;  but  in  tem- 
porary triumph  it  was  lifted  high  against  him.  But  the  '  head' 
was  bruised  in  that  hour ;  Jesus  'through  death  destroyed  him 
who  had  the  power  of  death — triumphing  over  principalities 
and  powers  in  the  cross.'  But  while  he  bruised  not  the  serpent's 
heel  but  the  serpent's  head,  Satan  bruised  not  the  head  but  the 
heel  of  the  Messiah.  All  in  him  that  could  be  bruised  was  bruised 
by  the  Father  according  to  eternal  purpose,  and  by  Satan  as 
the  instrument  of  execution.  The  Godhead  was  not  and  could 
not  be  bruised;  the  human  nature  could  be  bruised,  and  it  was; 
the  head  could  not  be,  but  the  heel  was  bruised.  Yet  it  was 
not  the  separate  bruising  of  the  heel,  but  Ciirist  bruised  in  his 
heel ;  Christ  suffering  in  his  human  nature ;  Christ,  the  Eternal 
Word,  '  crucified  in  the  flesh.' 

This  '  head,'  then,  is  Godhead,  and  this  head  '  is  the  most 
fine  gold.'  Some  take  it  to  be  the  golden  crown  which  he 
wore  upon  his  head,  as  the  gold  rings  on  his  hands : 

His  head  the  finest  gold  excels, 

Here  wisdom  in  perfection  dwells; 

And  glory  like  a  crown  adorns 

Those  temples  once  beset  with  thorns. —  Watts. 

But  this  rather  seems  to  suggest  the  image  than  to  contain 


0 


CHAP.  V.  11.  THE   EAVEX'S   PLUMES.  333 

it,  and  it  is  preferable  to  explain  the  emblem  of  the  head  itself, 
rather  than  of  the  crown  that  adorns  it — 'this  head  of  gold' 
representing  all  that  is  excellent.     Taken  thus,  however,  there 
is  uo  reference  to  the  colour  of  the  head,  but  simply  to  its  ex- 
cellence.     This  head  is  gold  most  precious,  contrasted  with 
which  the  highest  and  noblest  of  creatures  are  only  brass  and 
iron  and  clay.     They  are  all  common  and  earthly;  the  glori- 
ous angels  themselves  have  no  attraction  for  the  desolate  Bride; 
weighed  in  the  balances  they  are  altogether  wanting,  for  His 
head  is  gold.     It  is  gold  most  pure,  as  well  as  precious,  the 
most  fine  gold — without  the  least  mixture  or  alloy  of  any  other 
metal;  'light  and  no  darkness  at  all,  love  and  uo  malice  at 
all,  truth  and  no  shadow  of  turning.'     It  is  vast  also  in  its  pure 
preciousness ;  not  a  pure  grain  but  a  pure  globe  of  gold,  the 
head  one  mass  of  finest  gold;  the  infinite  greatness  of  Deity 
pure  throughout — golden  wisdom,  golden  truth,  golden  right- 
eousness, golden  peace,  golden  love,  golden  Godhead. 

Such  is  Christ's  head.     The  bruised  heel  pertained  to  this 
golden  head,  it  was  the  heel  of  this  head ;  the  golden  head 
pertained  to  the  bruised  heel,  it  was  the  head  of  that  heel. 
The  head  was  bruised  in  the  heel,  and  the  heel  exalted  in  the 
head.     When  the  sinner  accepts  of  Jesus,  all  this  head  of  gold 
is  his.     '  Thirty  pieces  of  silver,'  the  value  of  a  slave,  was  the 
price  put  upon  his  head  by  his  foes — 'most  fine  gold'  his  head 
is,  in  the  estimation  of  his  friends.     '  To  you  that  believe  he 
is  precious' — or  literally  'he  is  price' — is  preciousness  itself. 
In  believing,  all  the  gold  is  yours — '  Buy  of  me  gold  tried  in 
tiie  fire  that  thou  mayest  be  rich.'     You  come  to  Jesus  the 
Son  of  Man — you  embrace — you  receive  him — and  he  is  yours; 
in  that  hour  the  head  of  most  fine  gold  is  yours  ;  and  being  a 
member  inseparably  united  to  that  golden  head,  you  are  above 
all  want,  above  all  poverty,  above  all  fear  for  ever. 

THE   raven's   plumes. 

Sis  lochs  arc  bushy,  and  black  as  a  raven. — 

His  head  the  finest  gold, 

With  secret  sweet  perfume ; 
His  curled  locks  hang  all  as  black 

As  any  raven's  plume. — M.  Drayton. 


334       THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.     CHAr.  V.  11. 

As  the  head  of  fine  gold  is  descriptive  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus, 
so  in  the  '■  locks'  we  have  the  emblem  of  his  humanity.  The 
bushiness  of  the  locks  is  in  contrast  with  the  long  flowing  hair 
of  the  Bride,  which  is  twice  likened  to  'a  flock  of  goats  on 
Mount  Gilead,'  and  in  both  instances  by  the  King  himself — 
the  token  of  subjection  to  Him.  The  'head  uncovered,'  not 
concealed  by  head-dress  or  veil  or  long  hair,  denotes  dominion. 
The  'head  of  the  Church,  the  head  of  every  man,  is  Christ,' 
and  Christ  is  'the  image  and  glory  of  God.'  The  first  Adam 
was  on  earth  'the  image  of  God,'  with  no  token  of  subjection 
on  his  head;  subject  to  God  unseen,  subject  to  none  on  earth, 
but  all  obedient  to  him.  The  Second  Adam  is  the  'Man  of 
whom  God  is  mindful,  the  Son  of  Man  whom  he  visiteth, 
making  him  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,  crowning  him  with 
glory  and  honour,  making  him  to  have  dominion  over  the 
M'ork  of  his  hands,  putting  all  things  under  his  feet — all  beastg 
of  the  field,  fowls  of  the  air,  and  fish  of  the  sea.'  Jesus  stand- 
ing on  earth,  is  the  lowly  servant  of  the  Father,  but  over  all 
creation;  with  the  'bushy  locks'  of  headship,  with  his  head 
wearing  no  token  of  subjection  to  any  creature  ;  ruling  the 
earth,  and  the  beasts  thereof  yielding  themselves  to  bear  him 
as  King  and  governor ;,  ruling  the  seas,  and  the  fish  thereof 
paying  him  the  tribute  which,  to  avoid  offence,  he  delivers  to 
those  who  ask  it. 

The  bushiness  of  the  locks  is  emblematic,  also,  of  manhood 
in  its  manliness,  as  distinguished  from  the  weakness  and 
eifeminacy  of  the  long  hair  which  'is  a  shame'  to  men.  It  is 
a  feature  of  character  which  the  world  admires,  though  often 
sadly  mistaking  the  brass  for  the  gold — in  counting  pride, 
foolhardiness,  and  ungodliness  itself,  to  be  manliness.  Godli- 
ness is  not  the  destruction,  but  the  true  foundation  of  manli- 
ness. Never  on  earth  has  there  been  a  character  so  manly  as 
that  of  Jesus  Christ.  There  has  been  none  so  generous  as  he 
— pitying  the  hungry  though  not  starving  thousands,  and  pro- 
viding them  with  abundant  food,  supplying  the  marriage-feast 
with  flowing  w^ine,  standing  over  the  treasury  and  extolling 
the  widow's  two  mites  amongst  the  heaps  of  gold  and  silver. 
There  has  been  none  so  sincere  and  frank — 'Simon!  I  entered 


CHAP.  V.  11.  THE   raven's    PLUMES.  335 

into  thy  house,  thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my  feet,  thou 
gavest  me  no  kiss,  my  head  with  oil  thou  didst  not  anoint;' 
none  so  open — 'whom  seek  ye? — Jesus  of  Nazareth — I  am 
he!'  none  so  firm  in  refusing  to  let  men  abuse  his  openness — 
'by  what  authority  docst  thou  these  things? — I  also  will  ask 
you  one  question,  which  if  ye  answer  me  I  will  answer  you.' 
There  has  been  none  so  scrupulous  in  not  interfering  with  other 
men's  matters — 'who  made  me  a  judge  over  you?'  none  so 
self-denying  and  regardless  of  his  own  comfort,  hungering  and 
thirsting,  yet  counting  the  good  of  men  more  than  bread  or 
water;  none  so  superior  to  his  own  sufferings  in  compassion 
for  others — '  daughters  of  Jerusalem !  weep  not  for  rae !'  There 
has  been  none  so  fearless  of  the  face  of  man — 'woe  unto  you 
Scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !'  none  so  unmoved  from  his 
path  by  tyrants'  threats — 'get  thee  out,  or  Herod  will  kill  thee 
— go  tell  that  fox,  that  I  walk  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the 
third  day  I  shall  be  perfected !'  There  has  been  none  so  vigil- 
ant for  the  poor  and  helpless — 'ye  devour  widows'  houses,  and 
for  a  pretence  make  long  prayers;'  none  so  mindful  of  the  life 
and  wellbeing  of  his  followers — 'if  ye  seek  me  let  these  go 
their  way.'  All  that  is  manly,  noble,  generous,  or  great,  in 
human  character,  was  found  in  Jesus.  The  'uncovered  head' 
of  human  authority  was  his  ;  and,  beside  him,  no  dignity  rested 
on  any  son  of  Adam's  family.  The  'busliy  locks'  of  noble 
manhood  were  his,  and  in  comparison  all  men  have  been  mean, 
selfish,  unmanly,  ignoble.  How  happy,  then,  is  the  soul  that 
can  say,  'This  is  my  Beloved,  and  this  is  my  Friend!' 

The  blackness  of  the  locks  indicates  tlie  youth  of  the  wearer. 

His  noble,  gold-encirlerl  head, 
With  clustering  ringlets  is  o'erspread, 
Black  as  the  raven's  wing. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

It  is  the  token  of  the  perpetual  and  everlasting  youth  of 
Jesus — 'Thou  art  a  priest  for  ever  after  the  order  of  Melchis- 
edec,  thou  hast  the  dew  of  thy  youth.'  Jesus  has  it  from  the 
first,  and  keeps  it  to  all  eternity,  everlasting  as  his  priesthood. 
The  morning,  the  first  freshness,  the  earliest  dew  of  youth  is 


336         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  11. 

for  ever  his;  not  one  dewy  drop  that  rested  on  him  'from  the 
womb  of  the  morning'  is  lost  for  ever.     His  'locks  were  filled 
with  the  dark  drops  of  the  night'  in  their  deadly  cold;  but 
they  are  exchanged  for  the  bright  pearls  of  the  dew  of  the  res- 
urrection morning,  which  now  sparkle  in  his  head  eternally. 
'Jesus  himself  began  to  be  about  thirty  years  of  age — O  my 
God!  take  me  not  away  in  the  midst  of  my  days! — thou  hast 
shortened  the  days  of  his  youth.'     In  the  ripeness  of  youthful 
and  vigorous  manhood  Jesus  is  taken  away,  and  in  that  youth- 
ful maturity  he  abides  for  ever.     It  is  perfect  maturity,  ma- 
turity of  wisdom  and  of  grace ;  but  it  is  not  maturity  of  age, 
for  of  that  he  had  no  need.     In  him  is  the  ripeness  of  every 
grace  in  the  full  maturity,  of  youthful  and  perfect  manhood. 
The  '  locks  are  bushy,'  not  one  hair  has  fallen  from  his  brow ; 
the  'locks  are  black  as  a  raven,'  not  one  hair  has  begun  to 
change  its  hue.     Jesus  'saw  no  corruption,'  no  corruption  of 
death,  no  corruption  of  sickness  or  of  age,  no  corruption  of 
one  hair  of  his  head  turned  into  the  whiteness  of  years — 'his 
locks  black  as  the  raven.'     In  the  corresponding  description 
in  Revelation  'his  head  and  his  hairs  are  white  like  wool,  as 
whife  as  snow,'  with  no  shadow  of  blackness  in  one  of  them. 
That  is  Christ  in  heaven — this  is  Christ  on  earth;  that  is 
Christ  from  eternity  to  eternity,  'the  Ancient  of  days' — this  is 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  ascended  to  the  Father's  right  hand,  '  the 
Son  of  Man  which  is  in  heaven.'     The  union  of  the  two  de- 
lineations sets  forth  one  perfect  Christ — with  eternal  whiteness 
of  hairs  as  of  wool  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever;  with  unfading  blackness  of  locks 
as  of  a  raven's  plumes  in  his  holy  manhood,  fresh  with  unde- 
cayed  youth. 

Jesus  alone  of  all  the  sons  of  men  on  earth  retains  the  fresh- 
ness of  youth  to  the  end;  in  every  other  there  have  been  'grey 
hairs  here  and  there;'  in  every  other  some  token  of  the  'almond- 
tree  flourishing,'  some  failure,  some  decay,  some  cooling  of  love 
to  God  or  to  men.  But  Jesus  addresses  his  Father — ' My  God ! 
my  God!  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?'  and  adds — 'Thou  art 
he  that  took  me  out  of  the  womb,  thou  art  my  God  from  my 
mother's  bellv.'     With  the  same  freshness  with  which  'he 


CHAP.  V.  11.  THE   raven's   PLUMES.  337 

hoped  in  God  when  he  hung  upon  hid  mother's  breasts/  does 
he  hope  when  he  hangs  upon  the  cross — 'My  God!'  in  both — 
the  raven  locks  of  youth  unchanged,  'Jesus  loved  Martha 
and  her  sister  and  Lazarus' — and  '  whom  he  loved  he  loved 
to  the  end — the  same  yesterday  and  to-day/  with  'the  dew  of 
vouth  restino;'  still  on  his  raven  locks.  The  vouth  of  everv 
other  beloved  changes  and  passes  away.  It  is  the  misery  of 
the  world  that  the  objects  of  its  admiration  cannot  retain  their 
youth;  but  first  the  grey  hairs  are  sprinkled  here  and  there, 
then  quickly  follow  the  waxing  old  and  the  vanishing  away  for 
ever.  With  what  surprise  will  the  children  of  earth,  when 
all  their  idols  have  faded,  behold  the  Church  'leaning  on  her 
Beloved  with  his  locks  black  as  a  raven,'  and  hear  her  an- 
nounce— '  this  is  my  Beloved  and  this  is  my  friend !'  But  along 
with  the  fading  of  age  in  their  objects  of  affection,  the  greyness 
of  years  comes  on  men  themselves.  They  would  fain  recover 
youth  but  cannot — they  would  retain  it  but  it  slips  silently 
yet  irresistibly  aw^ay ;  the  white  blossom  of  the  almond  has 
supplanted  the  glossy  plumage  of  the  raven — they  are  young 
no  more,  and  to  the  days  of  youth  they  can  never  return.  But 
Jesus  has  not  only  the  dew  of  youth  for  himself,  but  confers 
it  on  his  followers;  who  are  all  like  'the  dew-drops  from  the 
womb  of  the  morning.'  Their  souls  are  new  born,  everlast- 
ingly new,  for  ever  young;  and  soon  their  bodies  will  rise 
again  after  the  night  of  death  with  the  fresh  dew  of  the  resur- 
rection morn,  every  one  in  the  image  of  the  first-born  Brother, 
every  one  with  the  raven  locks  of  everlasting  youth. 

These  words  may  contain,  further,  an  implied  answer  to  the 
reproaches  of  the  enemy.  Jesus  covered  with  our  imputed 
transgressions,  'laid  on  him'  and  made  his  own,  is  ashamed 
to  look  up  and  confess  that  these  'sins  are  more  than  the  hairs 
of  his  head.'  He  looks  dark  and  defiled  to  his  foes  in  that 
hour;  but  he  is  never  more  lovely  in  the  eye  of  the  Bride, 
never  more  beauteous  and  attractive.  Those  sins  are  none  of 
them  his  own;  his  own  hairs  are  all  white  as  wool,  whiter  than 
snow;  and  the  blackness  of  our  transgressions  that  covers  his 
head  deforms  him  not  in  her  eyes.     If  his  locks  are  counted 


338         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  12. 

dark  by  his  murderers,  they  only  shine  to  his  friends  with  the 
glossy  brightness  of  the  raven's  wing — 'black  as  a  raven.' 

THE   DOVES   BY   THE   EIVERS. 

His  eyes  are  as  the  eyes  of  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters,  washed 
with  milk  and  fitly  set. — It  is  preferable  with  many  of  the  best 
critics  to  omit  the  italic  words,  and  to  read  as  in  the  original 
'his  eyes  are  as  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters;'  for  the  eye 
appears  to  be  compared  to  the  dove  itself,  the  blue  dove  of 
the  East  bathing  itself  in  the  clear  waters.  The  'milk'  is 
either  a  new  image  of  the  whiteness  of  milk  corresponding  to 
the  white  of  the  eye  that  surrounds  the,  pupil;  or  rather  it  is 
still  the  bright  water  trickling  over  the  dove  as  it  bathes  itself 
in  the  river,  and  sparkling  with  a  shining  whiteness.  Further, 
'the  eye  fitly  set'  may  either  be  a  comparison  of  the  eye,  fitted 
in  the  socket,  to  the  gem  in  the  setting  of  a  ring;  or,  more 
probably,  the  original  figure  is  continued,  and  the  fullness  of 
the  eye  expressed  by  the  dove  sitting  in  the  fullness  of  the 
stream. 

His  eyes  like  tender  ring-doves  gleam, 
Which,  bathed  within  a  milky  stream, 
A  clearer  radiance  fling. 

Grad.  of  Oxf, 

The  chief  idea  conveyed  by  the  image,  is  the  tender  com- 
passion and  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  along  with  the 
light  of  knowledge  which  the  eye  indicates.  The  whole  sig- 
nificance of  the  emblem  is  brought  out  by  Ezekiel  in  these 
words — 'None  eye  pitied  thee;  and  when  I  passed  by  thee  I 
saw  thee  and  looked  upon  thee,  and  thy  time  was  the  time  of 
love' — it  is  the  quick  observation,  and  the  tender  pity  of  di- 
vine love.  '  The  Lord  seeth  not,'  is  the  first  thought  of  man ; 
'the  Lord  regardeth  not,'  the  first  imagination  of  the  heedless 
sinner.  'He  that  formed  the  eye,  shall  he  not  see?'  is  now 
brought  home  with  power  to  the  mind  and  the  conscience.  But 
what  an  eye  is  his! — 'his  head  and  his  hairs  were  white  like 
wool,  and  his  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire — his  face  was  the 
appearance  of  lightning,  and  his   eyes  like  lamps  of  fire.' 


CHAP.  V.  12.  THE    DOVES   BY   THE    RIVERS.  339 

'Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  presence  or  flee  from  thy  Spirit?' 
is  now  the  inquiry;  'I  fell  at  his  feet  as  dead/  is  the  issue. 
But  he  says,  'Fear  not!  lam  he  that  livcth  and  was  dead'; 
and  when  the  face  is  raised  again  to  look  on  Jesus,  his  eyes 
are  no  more  beheld  as  burning  lamps  of  fire,  but  'as  doves  by 
the  rivers  of  waters,'  full  of  love  and  tender  pity. 

The  eye  of  love  is  in  Jesus — 'I  looked,  and  thy  time  was 
the  time  of  love' ;  the  eye  of  gentle  leading — 'I  will  guide  thee 
with  mine  eye';  the  eye  of  quick  perception — 'the  eyes  of  the 
Lord  running  to  and  fro  through  the  whole  earth.'  The  eye 
of  Jesus  is  the  eye  of  the  Man  of  sorrows  mourning  for  the 
lost,  and  '  with  strong  crying  and  tears  making  supplication' ; 
weeping  over  Jerusalem  with  'his  head  as  waters  and  his  eyes 
a  fountain  of  tears,  as  doves  by  the  rivers.'  How  attractive 
this  weeping  eye  is  to  the  perishing! — how  attractive  to  the 
redeemed,  whose  sins  its  tears  have  washed  from  the  book  of 
God.  The  eye  of  Jesus  is  the  eye  of  gentle  but  resistless  re- 
proof— 'Jesus  turned  and  looked  on  Peter,  and  he  went  out 
and  wept  bitterly.'  It  is  the  eye  of  compassionate  kindliness, 
resting  on  aught  that  is  lovely  in  any  man — '  Jesus  looking  on 
the  young  man,  loved  him  and  said, — One  thing  thou  lackest.' 
It  is  the  eye  of  sorrowing  friendship — 'Jesus  wept — behold 
how  he  loved  him!'  The  Bride,  mourning  for  her  absent  Lord, 
remembers  all  liis  looks  as  well  as  all  his  words — 'his  eyes 
are  like  the  doves  by  the  rivers  of  waters.' 

It  is  sad  indeed,  that  men  who  might  have  resting  upon 
them  this  eye  of  pity,  this  eye  of  love,  this  eye  of  guidance, 
are  refusing  to  look  on  Jesus;  and  that  hereafter  they  shall 
only  know  that  on  earth  his  eyes  were  as  doves  by  the  rivers 
of  water,  while  for  themselves  they  shall  hear  the  words, '  Mine 
eye  shall  not  spare,  nor  have  pity,  but  destroy  them.'  What 
eye  shall  not  pity? — 'the  eye  like  the  dove  in  the  waters'; 
what  eye  shall  not  spare? — the  eye  that  wept  rivers  of  tears  for 
the  lost.  Listen  to  him  calling  now — 'look  unto  me  and  be 
ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  !'  reply  to  him  now — 'Lord 
look  upon  me,  and  be  merciful  to  me,  as  thou  usest  to  do  unto 
those  that  love  thy, name!' 
V 


340  THE   BEAUTY   OF   THE   BELOVED.      CHAP.  V.  13. 

THE  AROMATIC   FLOWERS.  ' 

His  cheelcs  are  as  a  bed  of  spices,  as  sweet  flowers. — The  cheek 
is  the  seat  of  beauty,  which  also  the  Hebrew  word  is  under- 
stood to  signify  (Gesen.)  The  face  as  well  as  the  head  was 
anointed  with  fragrant  oil — 'oil  making  the  face  to  shine;'  and 
the  'ointment  flowing  down  the  beard' rendered  it  fragrant 
like  a  bed  of  aromatic  plants — the  head  of  Jesus  anointed,  and 
his  cheeks  as  a  bed  of  spices.  His  cheeks  are  beautiful  like 
loveliest  flowers,  and  fragrant  like  roses,  excelling  both  in  per- 
fume and  in  colour — 'as  spices,  and  as  sweet  flowers.' 

The  Father  saith  that  'no  man  can  see  his  face  and  live' — 
can  look  upon  the  fullness  of  the  beauty  that  shineth  there. 
But  the  Son  seeth  the  face  of  the  Father,  reflecteth  his  image, 
and  '  we  behold  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.' 
The  'face'  is  the  beauty  of  the  Father;  and  the  beauty  of  the 
Father  is  seen  'in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,'  the  divine  beauty 
shining  through  the  human.  Compared  with  his  no  other 
face  is  beautiful;  yet  'we  saw  in  him  no  form  nor  comeliness 
that  we  should  desire  him.'  Smiting  on  the  cheek  was  amongst 
the  greatest  of  all  indignities — 'they  have  smitten  me  on  the 
cheek  reproachfully ;'  and  never  was  the  insult  offered  with 
such  aggravation  as  in  the  sufferings  of  Jesus,  when  'he  giveth 
his  cheek  to  him  that  smiteth  him,  and  is  filled  full  with  re- 
proach.' 'Smitten  on  the  one  cheek,  he  gave  to  them  the  other 
also ;  he  gave  his  back  to  the  smiters,  and  his  cheeks  to  them 
that  plucked  off  the  hair.'  Judas  kissed  him  on  the  face  with 
the  kiss  of  the  betrayer;  the  servants  spit  in  his  face,  they  smote 
him  on  the  face  with  the  palms  of  their  hands,  and  in  him 
probably  they  fulfilled  also  the  prophecy  of  'smiting  the  Judge 
of  Israel  with  a  rod  upon  the  cheek.'  These  smitten  cheeks 
are  to  us  the  fragrant  '  beds  of  spices,'  these  smitten  cheeks  the 
'sweetest  flowers'  to  us.  They  were  lovely  and  fragrant  in 
themselves ;  but  we  saw  no  beauty  to  them,  and  inhaled  from 
them  no  perfume.  Some  beauty,  some  comeliness,  some  de- 
sirableness we  saw  in  Barabbas;  we  'desired  the  murderer' 
and  petitioned,  'Give  us  Barabbas!'  If  we  loved  him  not,  we 
could  at  least  endure  him ;  but  we  could  neither  accept  nor 


CHAP.  V.  13.  THE   LILIES.  341 

tolerate  the  Holy  One  of  God!  But  now  we  'look  on  him 
whom  we  have  pierced/  and  all  have  pierced  ;  our  insults  have 
enhanced  his  beauty,  our  smiting  has  drawn  forth  his  fragrance, 
and  his  cheeks  are  now  like  aromatic  plants  and  fairest  flowers 
— 'sweet  flowers  and  beds  of  spices.' 

THE   LILIES. 

His  lips  liJce  lilies,  dropping  sweet-smelling  myrrh. — Like  red 
lilies  are  his  lips,  bright  and  pure;  like  lilies,  soft  and  gentle; 
like  lilies,  dropping  sweet  or  freely-flowing  myrrh.  Or  rather, 
it  is  probably  not  the  lilies,  but  the  lips  themselves,  that  drop 
the  myrrh — myrrh  which  w^as  greatly  esteemed  among  the  an- 
cients and  highly  fragrant.  The  lips  of  Jesus  werepiwe;  there 
was  no  guile  in  his  mouth,  no  deceit  in  his  tongue ;  the  lip  of 
truth  was  his — his  the  only  human  lips  that  knew  no  guile. 
Adam's  lip  was  pure  as  it  came  from  his  Creator's  hand,  but 
when  it  touched  the  forbidden  fruit  it  was  filled  with  guile 
and  bitterness — '  the  woman  thou  gavest  me,  she  gave  me  of 
the  tree.'  Our  lips  have  inherited  the  leprosy,  are  impure  and 
untrue,  but  the  lips  of  Jesus  were  pure  as  scarlet  lilies.  The 
lips  of  Jesus  were  gentle — the  soft  tongue  that  breaketh  the 
bone  was  his;  'when  he  was  reviled  he  reviled  not  again,  when 
he  sufiered  he  threatened  not';  from  his  birth  to  his  grave  the 
softness  of  the  lily  marked  his  lips,  and  distinguished  him  from 
all  the  human  family.  Burning  lips  were  in  his  disciples — 
'shall  we  call  down  fire  from  heaven? — ye  know  not  what 
spirit  ye  are  of;  the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  destroy  but  to 
save' — his  lips  like  lilies.  Burning  lips  were  in  his  foes,  set 
on  fire  of  hell — 'all  they  that  see  me  laugh  me  to  scorn,  they 
shoot  out  the  lip,  they  shake  the  head;'  but  his  lips  were  still 
like  lilies — 'Father  forgive  them  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do  !'  His  lips  were  like  lilies  in  his  speech,  his  lips  were  also 
like  lilies  in  his  silence;  his  were  softest  words,  and  his  was 
gentlest,  holiest  silence. 

Droppjing  sweet-smelling  myrrh. — The  lips  of  Jesus  were  full 
of  wisdom — dropping  fragrant  myrrh.  In  their  own  free  open- 
ing they  overflowed  with  the  most  odorous  myrrh — 'the  Spirit 


342         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  14. 

of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach 
the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.'  The  officers  sent  to  take  him 
returned  without  him,  and  their  apology  was, '  never  man  spake 
like  this  man;'  because  his  lips  dropped  myrrh  around  him, 
they  came  within  its  fragrance,  and  could  not  touch  the  man 
to  whom  those  lips  pertained.  But  his  enemies  would  force 
his  lips  open — He  can  speak  well  and  wisely  of  his  own  free 
choice,  selecting  what  to  utter;  but  there  is  gall  of  asps  under 
every  man's  tongue,  and  though  we  see  it  not,  it  must  be  lurk- 
ing beneath — and  they  urged  him  'to  speak  of  many  things.' 
But  the  '  well-spring  of  wisdom  from  his  mouth  was  a  flowing 
brook,'  and  his  lips,  pouring  forth  rapid  and  continuous  re- 
plies to  their  urgent  aud  incessant  demands,  dropped  only 
sweetest  myrrh.  His  keenest  enemies  found  nothing  whereof 
to  accuse  him;  the  fountain  that  was  beneath  the  tongue  they 
had  resolved  to  test,  and  they  tested  it  to  the  utmost;  but  every 
drop  that  passed  his  lips  was  purest  myrrh,  and  every  drop  in 
the  hidden  source  within.  'His  lips  are  like  lilies,  dropping 
sweet-smelling  myrrh'  the  same  now,  the  same  gentle  lips  in 
heaven  as  on  earth;  and  exquisitely  fragrant  are  the  drops  of 
myrrh  that  fall  down  to  the  earth,  and  for  the  children  of 
earth,  from  the  lips  of  Jesus — Jesus  'at  the  right  hand  of  God' 
speaking  ever  for  us  there,  speaking  ever  to  us  thence. 

THE  GOLD  RINGS. 

His  hands  are  as  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl. — The  rings  are 
not  an  image  to  which  the  hands  are  likened,  but  an  ornament 
with  which  they  are  invested,  and  by  which  they  are  distin- 
guished from  the  hands  of  others.  'His  hands  gold  rings  set 
with  the  beryl,'  these  rings  characterize  them;  or  if  we  add 
an  expletive,  'his  hands  have  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl,'  or 
as  in  one  of  the  old  Bibles,  'his  handes  are  full  of  golde  ringes 
and  precious  stones.'  The  ring  was  worn  either  on  the  finger 
or  on  the  wrist,  but  the  Scriptures,  without  reference  to  this 
distinction,  speak  of  it  uniformly  as  'a  ring  on  the  hand.'  The 
beryl  is  the  ancient  chrysolite,  allied  to  or  identical  with  the 
modern  topaz,  a  brilliant  gold-coloured  gem,  and  in  its  finer 
specimens  of  so  rich  a  hue,  that  it  was  said  by  the  ancients  to 


CHAP.  V.  14.  THE   GOLD    RINGS.  343 

impart  a  silvery  paleness  to  the  gold  in  which  it  was  set.  The 
beryl  was  one  of  the  twelve  jewels  on  the  high-priest's  breast- 
plate, one  of  the  precious  stones  that  garnished  the  foundations 
of  the  New  Jerusalem  of  the  Revelation,  and  is  employed  to 
portray  the  appearance  of  the  glorious  one  described  in  the 
tenth  of  Daniel.  The  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl  may  be 
regarded  as  characteristic  both  of  the  Person  and  of  the  Church 
of  Christ. 

1 .  As  respects  his  Person,  the  gold  ring  is  emblematic,  first, 
of  freedom,  sonship,  dignity.  A  slave,  in  later  times  at  least, 
was  not  suffered  to  wear  a  ring,  or  only  a  ring  of  iron  and  not 
of  gold.  The  prodigal  son,  restored  to  his  father's  house  and 
favour,  not  treated  as  a  servant  but  welcomed  as  a  child,  has 
a  ring  immediately  put  upon  his  hand.  The  shoes,  and  a  robe 
of  some  kind,  were  both  urgently  needed,  but  the  ring  went 
beyond  the  present  necessities  of  use,  and  was  a  pure  token  of 
restoration  to  sonship.  Of  all  that  have  ever  trod  God's  earth, 
Jesus  the  Son  of  Mary  is  alone  entitled  to  the  gold  ring  on 
his  hand ;  for  it  was  Adam's  and  he  lost  it,  nor  was  there  any 
to  claim  it  again  till  the  Second  Adam  appeared,  and  his  it 
was  peculiarly  and  pre-eminently  as  the  Son  of  God.  '  He  took 
on  him  the  form  of  a  servant,'  was  sold  for  the  price  of  a  slave, 
and  died  the  death  of  a  slave  with  the  iron  nails  piercing  his 
hands ;  but  in  asserting  that  he  was  not  liable  to  the  tribute- 
money  for  God's  temple  because  'the  children  are  free,'  he  be- 
clared  that  he  alone  of  all  men  was  a  Child,  a  Son,  alone  of  all 
men  free.  Most  suitably  therefore  does  the  Church  affirm 
that  he  is  '  more  than  any  other  beloved,'  because  he  only  is  en- 
titled to  the  'gold  ring  upon  his  hand.'  But  yet  also  because 
he  is  the  Son,  those  whom  he  is  not  ashamed  to  call  brethren 
are  sons  along  with  him,  and  he  takes  from  us  the  iron  ring 
of  the  slave,  and  invests  us  with  the  gold  ring  of  the  child  and 
the  freeman — '  the  Son  making  us  free,  and  we  are  free  indeed.' 

But  the  ring  is,  next,  the  emblem  of  authority  and  power, 
the  '  ring  set  with  the  beryl,'  the  ring  enclosing  the  precious 
stone  with  the  engraven  signet.  When  Joseph,  an  eminent 
type  of  Christ,  was  brought  out  of  the  prison-house,  the  king 
of  Egypt  took  off  his  ring  from  his  hand,  put  it  upon  Joseph's 


344         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  14. 

hand,  and  said ;  *I  am  Pharaoh,  and  without  thee  shall  no  man 
lift  up  liis  hand  or  foot  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt.'  Pharaoh's 
signet-ring  with  his  name  or  memorial,  subjected  to  him  all 
his  people,  all  except  Pharaoh  himself  who  put  them  under 
him,  saying,  'Only  in  the  throne  will  I  be  greater  than  thou. 
In  like  manner,  in  the  universal  kingdom  'the  Father  judgeth 
no  man  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son,  hath 
given  him  authority  with  all  power  iu  heaven  and  in  earth, 
and  hath  put  all  things  under  his  feet.'  Of  this  Son  it  is 
written  that  '  him  hath  the  Father  sealed,'  and  John  says  of 
him  in  vision  '  I  saw  another  angel  ascending  from  the  east, 
having  the  seal  of  the  living  God,'  that  is,  having  the  signet- 
ring  of  the  living  God.  This  signet  is  engraved  with  the 
Father's  name,  for  the  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  that 
are  sealed  with  it  are  described  as  having  Hhe  name  of  the 
Father'  written  in  their  foreheads  (Rev.  vii.,  xiv).  Such  a 
signet-ring,  then,  does  the  Church's  Bridegroom  wear;  it  dis- 
tinguishes him  in  her  eyes  from  all  other  loi*ds  and  all  other 
objects  of  affection;  and  she  rejoices  greatly  to  look  on  it,  be- 
cause her  own  forehead  bears  its  impress  from  that  hour  'when 
after  she  believed,  she  was  sealed  with  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
promise.'  Aiid  if  on  his  hands  are  many  rings,  it  is  just  as  'on 
his  head  are  many  crowns' — both  representing  his  manifold 
authority,  dominion,  and  power  over  heaven,  earth,  and  hell. 

But,  reader!  he  who  holdeth  in  his  hand  the  seal  of  the  liv- 
ing God  crieth  with  a  loud  voice, — 'Hurt  not  the  earth  till 
we  have  sealed  the  servants  of  our  God  in  their  foreheads!' 
He  is  restraining  judgment  from  thee, '  holding  the  winds  from 
hurting'  thee,  giving  thee  space  for  repentance,  granting  thee 
time  for  sealing,  and  not  refusing  to  impress  on  thy  forehead 
the  signet  with  his  Father's  name  engraven.  The  man  'that 
Cometh  to  him  he  will  iu  no  wise  cast  out,'  and  to  the  return- 
ing sinner  that  cometh  to  be  sealed  he  will  in  no  wise  refuse 
sealing  grace.  Art  thou  denying  or  delaying  to  submit  thy 
forehead  to  the  blessed  brand? 

Jj\it  further,  as  the  Father  gives  to  Christ  his  signet,  his  name, 
authority,  and  power;  so  Christ  gives  his  own  signet-ring  to  his 
Bride.  To  every  believer  he  makes  a  gift  of  his  Name,  to  employ 


CHAP.  V.  14  THE    GOLD    RINGS.  345 

on  all  occasions  for  all  holy  ends,  in  every  adversity,  in  every 
diiBculty,  every  enterprise.  In  illustrating  the  universal  power 
of  a  gift,  Solomon  compares  it  to  a  precious  stone  'prospering 
whithersoever  it  turneth;'  probably  referring  to  a  signet  gem 
with  its  owner's  name  engraven,  which  M'ould  insure  success 
within  the  whole  circle  of  his  power  and  influence.  That  circle 
has  but  a  narrow  limit  to  earth's  mightiest  monarchs,yet  within 
that  limit  their  sit^net-rings  have  delivered  their  friends  who  have 
been  able  to  produce  them  in  their  hour  of  need.  But  in  the  case 
of  that  name  which  is  'above  every  name  in  heaven  and  in  earth 
and  under  the  earth,'  its  success  whithersoever  it  turneth  em- 
braces an  immeasurable  range  in  heaven  above,  in  the  deep 
beneath,  in  the  heart  within,  in  the  earth  around.  The  power 
of  that  name  reaches  upward  to  heaven — '  whatsoever  ye  shall 
ask  the  Father  in  my  name  he  will  give  it  you;'  downward  to 
hell — '  in  my  name  ye  shall  cast  out  devils ;'  inward  to  the 
heart  and  conscience — 'ye  are  washed,  ye  are  sanctified,  ye  are 
justified,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus;'  and  outward  unto  all 
mankind — for  'whosoever  shall  give  you  a  cup  of  water  in  my 
name,  he  shall  not  lose  his  reward.'  That  signet-ring  pre- 
sented averts  the  uplifted  axe  of  eternal  justice,  opens  the 
dungeon's  iron  gates  to  the  prisoner,  stops  the  mouth  of  lions, 
and  paralyses  the  proudest  enemies.  Bride  of  the  Lamb!  Je- 
sus having  given  you  his  name  and  signet,  says,  'Hitherto 
have  ye  asked  nothing  in  my  name,  ask  and  ye  shall  receive.' 
Child  of  death !  Jesus,  having  oft  plucked  the  signet-ring  from 
his  right  hand  and  bestowed  it  on  the  dying  to  deliver  his  soul, 
has  still  another  ring  for  you  and  every  returning  penitent, 
for  '  his  hands  are '  full  of '  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl.'  There- 
fore the  Church  admires  him,  and  therefore  also  should  he  be 
precious  in  your  eyes. 

2.  But  these  rings  of  gold  on  the  hand  may  next  be  con- 
sidered as  emblematic  of  the  Church,  in  its  close  connexion 
with  the  person  of  Christ.  The  corresponding  description  in 
the  first  chapter  of  Revelation  regarding  the  Hand  of  Christ 
establishes  these  two  important  points — First,  that  in  such  a 
portrait,  full  of  images,  some  parts  may  notwithstanding  be 
described  simply  by  what  is  worn  on  the  person  without  a 


346         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  14. 

comparison.  The  hair  is  like  wool,  the  eyes  are  like  fire  and 
the  feet  like  brass,  but  the  hand  is  not  described  by  what  it  re- 
sembles but  simply  by  what  it  holds — 'seven  stars. ^  This  has 
been  overlooked  by  many  excellent  expositors,  who  have  per- 
plexed themselves  to  discover  a  resemblance  between  the  hand 
and  the  golden  ornaments,  instead  of  finding  in  the  rings  them- 
selves a  badge  or  characteristic  of  the  wearer.  The  Second 
point  firoved  is,  that  a  description  applying  chiefly  to  Christ's 
person  may,  notwithstanding,  contain  in  it  parts  which  refer 
expressly  to  his  Church  or  his  ministers.  The  'stars  in  the 
right  hand  of  Christ'  are  his  ministers,  or  his  ministers  along 
with  his  members;  and  in  like  manner  the  'rings  on  his  hand' 
are  to  be  interpreted  of  the  ministers  and  members  of  the 
Church.  This  has  no  inconsistency  Avith  the  previous  inter- 
pretation of  these  rings  being  signets,  because  Christ  both 
makes  his  chosen  'like  a  signet,'  and  employs  his  ministers  in 
a  very  special  manner  for  the  calling  and  'sealing  of  his  elect'; 
and  it  is  confirmed  by  the  language  of  the  Bride  herself,  when 
she  prays  to  be  'set  as  a  seal  upon  his  arm' — to  be  made  one 
of  those  signet-rings  with  which  his  hands  are  adorned. 

'The  seven  stars  in  the  right  hand,'  and  'the  golden  rings 
set  with  the  beryl,'  both  mutually  illustrate  each  other,  and 
shed  light  on  other  passages  of  Scripture.  The  holding  of  the 
stars  in  the  right  hand  cannot  mean  that  they  are  held  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand;  for  although  Christ  in  Isaiah  describes 
himself  as  having  been  thus  'hid'  before  his  manifestation  to 
men,  it  is  under  the  image  of  a  polished  shaft  and  an  arrow, 
concealed  till  it  is  drawn  forth  like  a  sword  from  the  sheath, 
or  an  arrow  from  the  quiver.  Such  a  holding  within  the  hand 
is  of  all  things  least  applicable  to  stars,  whose  very  nature  is 
brilliancy  and  visibility  from  afar.  But  the  gold  rings  on  the 
hand  of  Christ  suggest  a  simple  solution,  the  stars  being  the 
brilliant  gems  on  the  rings — the  star-coloured  beryls ;  and  in 
Revelation  (i.  20)  they  are  expressly  termed  in  the  original 
'the  seven  stars  which  thou  sawest  uj)on  my  right  hand.' 

The  beautiful  image  in  Isaiah  'I  have  graven  thee  on  the 
palms  of  my  hands'  is  probably  to  be  explained  in  the  same 
manner;  for  the  common  explanation  of  the  name  being  punc- 


CHAP.  V.  14.  THE   GOLD    RINGS.  347 

tured  on  the  hand  itself,  implies  an  image  contrary  to  express 
divine  command.  But  the  figure  is  simple  and  natural  as  well 
as  beautiful,  if  we  understand  it  of  the  name  of  Jerusalem  be- 
ing engraven  on  Jehovah's  signet-ring ;  and  the  seal,  either 
according  to  occasional  usage  or  in  distinction  from  ordinary 
custom,  being  turned  to  the  palm  of  the  hand,  so  as  to  be  ever 
before  the  eye. 

And  now,  believer !  consider  the  safety,  the  acceptableness, 
and  the  honour  attached  to  thee,  in  being  compared  to  these 
jewel-set  rings  on  the  hand  of  Christ.  Consider  thy  safety. 
The  hand  in  Scripture  is  the  constant  emblem  of  power,  and 
the  hand  of  Christ  designa.tes  all  his  power  and  all  his  Father's 
power,  for  the  Father  and  he  are  one.  'All  his  saints  are  in 
his  hand;'  and  of  all  his  sheep  he  saith,  'I  give  unto  them 
eternal  life  and  they  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall  any  pluck 
them  out  of  my  hand ;  my  Father  which  gave  them  me  is 
greater  than  all,  and  no  man  is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my 
Father's  hand.'  But  there  is  nothing  more  firmly  grasped  in 
the  hand  than  a  ring,  or  than  a  gem  in  the  palm  of  the  hand 
embedded  in  a  ring.  The  hand  itself  must  be  shattered  before 
such  a  treasure  can  be  plucked  away  by  force;  and  so  long  as 
the  hand  of  Christ  retains  its  power,  his  people  who  are  as 
rings  upon  that  hand  can  never  be  plucked  from  it.  Again, 
there  was  nothing  of  old  so  jealously  guarded  as  the  signet-ring, 
and  accordingly,  in  the  case  of  the  king  of  Judah,  God  speaks 
of  the  plucking  of  such  a  ring  oflT  as  that  which  none  other 
could  do,  and  which  would  be  done  by  himself  last  of  all — 
'  though  Coniah  the  son  of  Jehoiakira  were  the  signet  on  my 
right  hand,  yet  would  I  pluck  thee  thence;'  that  is,  though 
he  were  in  the  place  from  which  least  of  all  in  the  world  he 
could  be  plucked.  There  is  therefore  for  thee  no  position  in 
tlie  universe  so  safe,  so  safe  against  all  enemies,  so  safe  for  all 
eternity,  as  to  be  amongst  those  'gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl 
on  the  hand'  of  thy  Lord.  To  all  who  inquire  of  thee  '  what 
can  thy  Beloved  do  more  than  another  beloved?'  thou  canst 
answer — Earth  and  hell  combined  against  my  Beloved,  they 
parted  his  raiment  and  cast  lots  for  his  vesture,  they  took  his 
life  away — for  he  laid  it  down  for  me,  and  through  his  hands 


348  THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.   14. 

they  drove  the  iron  uails,  but  they  were  not  able  to  pluck 
me  from  those  hands.  Had  he  cast  me  off,  or  let  any  pluck 
me  thence,  the  Father's  cup  would  have  passed  from  him.  But 
he  died,  having  me  as  'a  signet  on  his  hand  and  on  his  arm'; 
they  buried  him,  but  I  was  'buried  together  with  him'  in  'the 
place  where  my  Lord  lay,  graven  on  the  palms  of  his  hands '; 
and  he  rose  from  the  grave  holding  me  in  his  right  hand  and 
saying  to  me,  'My  Father  is  your  Father,  and  my  God  your  God!' 

Then,  in  acceptableness  and  honour  thou  art  always  in  his 
sight,  'engraven  as  on  the  palms  of  his  hands,'  and  ever  before 
him.  'In  that  day  will  I  take  thee,  O  Zerubbabel  my  ser-*" 
vant!  saith  the  Lord,  and  will  make  thee  as  a  signet,  for  I 
have  chosen  thee.'  Because  he  hath  loved  thee  and  chosen 
thee,  therefore  he  makes  thee  a.s  a  signet  on  his  hand :  and 
thou  canst  never  be  out  of  sight,  never  out  of  mind.  But  re- 
member, thou  art  there  also  in  a  place  most  privileged  and  most 
conspicuous — honourable  for  thee  if  thou  art  an  ornament  to 
him,  for  he  hath  chosen  thee  to  'be  unto  him  for  a  name,  for 
a  praise,  and  for  a  glory,  if  thou  wilt  hear ;'  but  if  thou  art  not 
amongst  the  stones  elect  and  precious,  but  art  only  brilliant 
glass,  though  thou  shouldst,  in  privilege  and  profession,  be 
like  the  signet  on  his  right  hand,  he  'will  pluck  thee  thence,' 
and  thou  shalt  not  'be  his  in  the  day  when  he  maketh  up  his 
jewels.' 

When,  therefore,  thou  art  asked  what  is  thy  Beloved  more 
than  another  beloved?  thou  hast  this  reply,  'His  hands  are 
as  gold  rings  set  with  the  beryl.'  He  alone  wears  the  gold 
ring  of  sonship  and  freedom,  and  he  hath  given  it  to  me  and 
made  me  a  son  and  not  a  servant;  he  only  wears  the  jewelled 
signet-ring  of  all  authority  in  heaven  and  earth,  and  he  hath 
bestowed  it  on  me,  so  that  to  me  also  'ail  things  are  possible.' 
All  other  beloved  ones — '  the  world  and  all  that  are  in  the 
world' — will  die,  and  all  who  cleave  to  them  will  be  plucked 
like  a  ring  from  a  dead  man's  finger;  but  he  alone,  through 
life  and  death,  and  in  triumph  over  every  foe,  has  held  his 
Bride  'as  a  signet  in  his  hand,  as  a  seal  on  his  arm;'  and  he 
will  own  me  'on  the  day  when  he  maketh  up  his  jewels,'  and 
set  me  as  a  star  on  his  right  hand  forever. 


CHAP.  V.  14.  THE   BRIGHT   IVORY.  349 


THE  BRIGHT  IVOEY. 


His  belly  \_or  hody~\  is  as  bright  ivory  overlaid  with  saj^phires. — 
This  body,  as  an  old  Bible  better  renders  the  word,  is  described 
by  the  appearance  of  the  breast,  neck,  and  arms,  or  as  much  of 
the  person  as  was  not  covered  by  the  robes.  This  mode  of 
description  is  clearly  brought  out  in  the  glorious  person  seen 
in  the  tenth  of  Daniel,  whose  'body  was  like  the  beryl,'  where 
it  is  expressly  stated  that  '  he  was  clothed  in  linen.'  The  sap- 
phires are  probably  the  precious  stones  that  adorned  either  the 
robe  or  the  girdle.  The  robes  of  Eastern  monarchs  some- 
times glitter  all  over  with  costly  gems,  and  the  Eastern  female 
girdle  is  described  'as  about  four  fingers  broad,  which  all  who 
can  afford  it  have  entirely  of  diamonds  or  other  precious  stones.' 
In  Revelation,  Jesus  is  described  as  '  girt  about  the  paps  with 
a  girdle  of  gold,'  as  here  with  a  girdle  of  sapphires. 

His  body  is  as  bright  ivory,  or  wrought  ivory — 'a  body  hast 
thou  prepared  me.  It  is' the  stone  cut  out  without  hands,' 
the  immediate  workmanship  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  it  is  not  any 
human  form,  but  one  expressly  prepared  by  God  for  the  in- 
dwelling of  the  Eternal  Word.  It  is  the  'ivory  palace'  in 
which  'the  King  of  glory  was  to  abide';  Jesus  comparing  his 
own  body  to  the  white  marble  of  Jehovah's  temple,  the  Church 
comparing  it  to  a  temple  or  palace  of  white  ivory.  The  smooth- 
ness of  the  polished  ivory  represents  the  body  '  without  wrinkle,' 
the  absence  of  all  defect  or  poverty,  the  fullness  of  grace  and 
truth.  The  whiteness  of  the  ivory  denotes  the  spotlessness  of 
Jesus ;  as  without  wrinkle,  so  '  without  spot' ;  not  a  blemish, 
not  a  speck,  not  a  flaw  upon  the  polished  surface;  the  'Naza- 
rene — a  Nazarite  whiter  than  milk,  purer  than  snow;  the  holy, 
the  harmless,  the  undefiled.' 

It  was  on  such  a  body,  on  this  body,  that  the  Father  'laid 
the  iniquities  of  us  all,  when  Jesus  bare  our  sins  in  his  own 
body  on  the  tree.'  Pure  as  ivory  that  body  behoved  to  be, 
without  the  least  spot  of  its  own,  for  the  spots  of  all  his  people 
were  to  be  gathered  and  laid  on  it.  Like  Jacob's  flock  of  old, 
the  speckled  and  the  spotted  formed  all  the  flock  of  the  Good 


350         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVEP.   CHAP.  V.  14. 

Shepherd.  'Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin  or  the  leopard 
his  spots?'  but  the  Father  took  the  dark  stain  of  the  Ethiopian, 
and  the  many  spots  of  the  leopard,  and  laid  them  on  the  spot- 
less ivory  of  the  body  of  Jesus;  and  so,  bearing  our  iniquities, 
the  Lamb  of  God  'took  away  the  sins  of  the  world.'  Bright 
ivory  the  Bride  calls  the  lovely  body  of  Jesus,  in  admiration 
and  in  knowledge,  yet  in  partial  ignorance;  for  Jesus  tells  his 
disciples  that  this  ivory  temple  is  to  be  broken  in  pieces,  and 
they  exclaim — 'that  be  far  from  thee,  this  shall  not  be  unto 
thee!'  They  could  not  bear  that  a  scar  should  deface  the  pol- 
ished surface  of  the  ivory  they  so  greatly  and  so  justly  admired ; 
but  Jesus  compares  himself  to  white  bread,  made  to  be  broken, 
and  beautiful  in  the  breaking — 'I  am  the  bread  of  life;  take 
eat,  this  is  my  body  broken  for  you!'  Unbroken,  it  had  been 
to  us  but  a  beautiful  stone  to  admire,  and  no  bread  to  eat;  but 
when  broken,  the  life  that  is  in  the  bread  is  united  to  the  beauty 
that  is  in  the  ivory.  Let  us  also  remember,  that  if  we  are  his 
we  are  fashioned  in  his  likeness,  that  the  neck  of  the  Bride  'is 
like  a  tower  of  ivory;'  and  let  us  be  continually  washing  in 
his  blood,  and  living  in  his  Spirit,  that  no  spot  may  deface  his 
image  in  us.  He  hath  taken  our  spots  and  sins,  that  we  may 
in  him  be  'without  spot  or  wrinkle  or  any  such  thing? 

Overlaid  with  sapphires — 'girded  about  the  paps  with  a  gold- 
en girdle' — '  righteousness  the  girdle  of  his  reins  and  faithful- 
ness the  girdle  of  his  loins.'  The  sapphire  robe  or  gii-dle  sug- 
gests ^rs^,  the  heavenlinesft  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows;  the  ivory 
represents  the  purest  of  earth's  productions — a  body  fairer 
than  the  earth,  yet  of  the  earth ;  the  sapphire  is  employed  in 
Scripture  to  represent  heaven — '  under  his  feet  a  pavement  of 
sapphire,  as  it  were  the  body  of  heaven  in  its  clearness.'  Jesus 
in  all  his  lowliness,  in  all  the  lowly  beauty  of  his  manhood, 
and  in  all  the  humiliation  of  his  sufferings,  is  still  'the  Son  of 
Man  which  is  in  heaven.'  About  his  ivory  body  there  is  ever 
cast  the  sapphire  mantle ;  in  the  earth  and  on  the  cross  he  still 
is  'the  Son  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,'  and  'the  heaven  in  its 
clearness'  is  still  as  a  bright  robe  around  him.  The  girdle  of 
sapphires  suggests  next,  the  infinite  riches  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — rich  not  with  gems  of  earth,  but  with  treasures  of 


CHAP.  V.  15.  THE   PILLAES   OF   MARBLE.  35l 

heaven,  ^  which  cannot  be  valued  witli  the  gold  of  Ophir,  with 
the  precious  onyx  anil  sapphire.'  It  was,  indeed,  no  girdle  of 
sapphire  M'ith  which  Jesus  was  outwardly  arrayed  on  earth: 
but,  taking  the  form  of  a  servant,  'lie  laid  aside  his  garments, 
and  took  a  towel  and  girded  himself  and  washed  his  disciples' 
feet.'  This,  however,  was  exchanging  girdles  with  us.  As 
Jonathan  the  king's  son  took  off  his  robe  and  girdle  and  gave 
them  to  David,  who  had  come  from  following  his  few  sheep 
in  the  wilderness ;  so  Jesus,  the  Son  and  heir  of  the  King  of 
kings,  'knowing  that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  his 
hands  and  that  he  was  come  from  God  and  went  to  God,'  takes 
our  place  of  service  and  our  girdle  of  a  servant,  and  gives  over 
to  us  his  girdle  of  sapphires,  of  riches,  of  glory,  of  kingdom. 
'Ye  know  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  though  he 
was  ricli,  yet  for  our  sakes  he  became  poor,  that  we  through 
his  poverty  might  be  rich.'  Let  us  not  refuse  to  be  'made 
rich'  in  Him,  who  has  been  'made  poor'  for  us,  and  whose  re- 
ward is  in  seeing  us  'clothed  with  his  garments  of  salvation.' 

THE   PILLAES   OF   MAEBLE. 

His  legs  are  as  pillars  of  marble — Of  white  marble  the  legs 
appearing  beneath  the  robe,  as  of  white  ivory  the  breast  above 
it;  exactly  as  in  Daniel  the  man  clothed  in  fine  linen  has  arms 
and  feet  'like  in  colour  to  polished  brass,'  corresponding  to 
the  colour  of  his  body  '  like  the  beryl,'  which  is  a  gold-coloured 
jcM^el. 

Strength  and  steadfastness,  are  indicated  by  the  legs  like 
marble  pillars. — A  pillar,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  King's  chariot, 
is  the  emblem  of  strength,  and  of  strength,  likev/ise,  the  legs 
are  significant.  The  Lord  'taketli  not  pleasure  in  the  legs  of 
a  man,'  or  in  his  strength;  and  when  'the  grinders  cease  be- 
cause they  are  few,  the  strong  men  bow  themselves,'  or  the 
legs  bend  beneath  their  burden.  In  type  of  the  unfailing 
strength  that  is  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  his  legs  M-ere  not  suffered 
to  be  broken  on  the  cross.  The  legs  of  the  railer  that  M'as 
crucified  beside  him  were  broken,  for  all  the  arm  and  power 
of  the  wicked  shall  be  broken  in  pieces :  the  legs  of  the  new- 


352       THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.     CHAP.  V.  15. 

ly-ransomed  penitent  were  also  broken,  for  his  own  strength 
was  weakness,  and  all  his  help  in  another.  But  'they  brake 
not  the  legs  of  Jesus';  for  while  bruising  him,  the  Father  would 
ever  grant  some  token  of  his  love  and  care,  and  would  leave 
in  him  a  type  of  everlasting  strength  remaining  in  the  midst 
of  weakness.  On  those  'pillars  of  marble,'  on  those  'legs  un- 
broken '  even  on  the  cross,  the  whole  of  our  redemption  leans. 
On  Jesus  is  laid  the  weight  of  all  the  sins  of  all  his  elect  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  world — can  he  bear  them  all? 
— 'his  legs  are  pillars  of  marble.'  On  Jesus  are  laid  the  per- 
sons of  all  his  redeemed,  to  carry  each  '  lost  sheep'  back  to  the 
heavenly  fold — can  he  carry  them  all? — 'his  legs  are  pillars 
of  marble.'  On  Jesus  is  laid  the  earthly  provision  for  all  his 
Church,  the  'daily  bread,'  to  be  given  to  'the  children  whom 
God  has  given  him' — can  he  sustain  the  weight? — 'his  legs 
are  pillars  of  marble.'  On  Jesus  are  cast  all  the  burdens  of 
all  his  followers,  of  the  lame  and  the  blind  and  the  sick — all 
their  cares,  all  their  fears,  all  the  numberless  burdens  of  each, 
and  the  burdens  of  all  the  countless  flock.  He  invites  them 
all  to  cast  their  burdens  on  himself,  and  promises  relief  to  all — 
'Come  unto  toe,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest.'  Thousands  have  come  and  laid  their 
heavy  loads  upon  Him,  thousands  are  coming  now,  and  if 
thousands  more  shall  follow,  he  can  endure  the  weight,  for  'his 
legs  are  pillars  of  marble.' 

But  the  image  is  that  of  steadfastness,  as  well  as  strength. 
'  The  unequal  legs  of  the  lame'  have  been  those  of  all  other 
men  from  Adam  downward — halting,  stumbling,  falling  in  the 
way.  But  the  legs  of  the  second  Adam,  are  marble  pillars — 
upright,  even,  steadfast,  immovable.  Satan  must  needs  prove 
them,  for  if  he  can  overcome  this  one  man  he  is  master  of  all; 
he  has  conquered  the  first  man  and  all  that  were  in  him,  he 
must  attempt  the  conquest  of  the  second  and  all  His  members. 
Jesus  walks  wearily  from  the  wilderness,  'an  hungered'  with 
long  abstinence,  and  'his  knees  weak  through  fasting;'  Satan 
tries  whether  those  upright  limbs  will  not  bend  before  him — 
'  if  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be  made 
bread,'  stoop,  eat,  and  thou  shalt  find  bread  for  thine  hunger. 


CHAP.  V.  15.  THE   PILLARS   OF   MARBLE.  353 

He  stoops  not,  he  halts  not,  but  walks  right  onward,  saying, 
'Man  livetli  not  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God' — 
Miis  legs  are  pillars  of  marble.'  Satan  takes  him  next  to  a 
pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and  suggests,  'Cast  thyself  down,  for 
the  angels  will  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands';  Jesus  standeth 
still  and  raoveth  not — '  thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy 
God' — 'his  legs  are  pillars  of  marble.'  Onee  more,  Satan 
makes  a  last  effort  to  bow  those  marble  pillars,  an  effort  al- 
most desperate  and  all  the  more  daring,  for  nothing  will  suffice 
him  now  but  the  prostrate  bending  of  those  pillars  in  obeisance 
— 'All  these  will  I  give  thee  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  wor- 
ship me.'  It  is  in  vain!  the  pillars  move  not,  the  knees  bend 
not — 'get  thee  behind  me  Satan!'  and  Satan  has  fled  con- 
founded, and  has  added  his  reluctant  testimony  that — 'his 
legs  are  as  pillars  of  marble.'  'His  legs  are  as  pillars  of  mar- 
ble' still,  for  'he  standeth  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  an  high- 
priest  for  evermore.'  'I  see  heaven  opened,'  said  Stephen 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  'and  Jesus  standing  at  the  right 
hand  of  God';  from  that  day  he  hath  never  sat  down,  and  were 
our  eyes  opened  like  Stephen's,  we  should  behold  the  High 
Priest  standing  unmoved  on  the  very  spot,  upright,  in  the  very 
attitude  in  Avhich  he  was  revealed  to  the  dying  martyr,  and 
we  should  exclaim  with  the  Bride — '  His  legs  are  as  pillars  of 
marble!' 

Set  tqjon  sockets  of  fine  gold — The  golden  sandals  that  adorned 
the  marble  feet — the  sockets  of  the  marble  pillars.  Golden 
from  head  to  foot  is  'the  chief  among  ten  thousand' — 'his  head 
the  most  fine  gold,'  his  feet  'sockets  of  fine  gold' — for  they  are 
the  feet  pertaining  to  the  golden  head;  like  that  head,  and 
worthy  of  it.  The  feet  of  Jesus  are  beauteous  in  themselves, 
but  possess  a  divine  and  golden  beauty  through  their  union  to 
the  Head  of  gold.  The  Bride  confessed  them  to  be  'sockets 
of  fine  gold'  when,  once  and  again,  she  stooped  down  and 
kissed  those  feet.  '  Sockets  of  fine  gold '  the  sea  said  they 
were,  when  it  yielded  its  troubled  bosom  as  a  sapphire  pave- 
ment for  those  feet  to  walk  on;  'sockets  of  fine  gold'  the 
heavens  saw  them  to  be,  when  'his  feet  were  like  unto  fine 
brass  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace;'  'sockets  of  fine  gold' 


354         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  15. 

the  earth  acknowledged  them,  when  he  came  with  'his  feet 
shod  witli  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace/  with  '  feet 
beautiful  upon  the  mountains,  publishing  good  tidings/  and 
Svas  glorified  of  all.'  'Sockets  of  fine  gold'  hell  itself  was 
compelled  to  confess  them,  when  she  drove  the  nails  of  iron 
through  them,  and  those  feet,  as  fine  gold  cast  into  the  fire, 
were  not  consumed,  but  walked  calmly  forth  from  the  tomb 
with  the  iron  nails  plucked  out  in  triumph,  but  Avith  '  the 
print  of  the  nails  '  as  an  everlasting  memorial — an  imperisha- 
ble seal  that  the  gold  of  heaven,  yea,  the  '  tried  gold'  of  earth, 
had  triumphed  over  the  bloody  iron  of  the  old  murderer,  and 
unlocked  the  iron  gates  of  hell,  within  which  the  strong  one 
had  kept  his  captives. 

LEBANOJT. 

His  countenance  is  as  Lebanon. — The  Bride  has  already  por- 
trayed the  great  Bridegroom  of  the  Church  in  his  various 
glorious  features  from  head  to  foot ;  from  the  head  of  most 
fine  gold  to  the  golden  sandals  that  adorn  his  feet;  and  she 
now  proceeds  to  a  more  general  description  of  his  appearance — 
of  the  exquisite  beauty,  human  and  divine,  tlio.t  shines  through 
his  whole  form.  The  countenance  is  not  here  considered  as 
looking  on  us,  but  rather  as  looked  upon;  the  original  term 
embraces  not  the  face  only,  but  the  entire  aspect  and  stature ; 
and  by  using  it,  the  Bride  compares  his  aspect  to  Lebanon,  and 
his  person  to  the  cedars. 

Considering,  first,  the  resemblance  to  Lebanon,  we  shall  find 
it  readily  suggesting  one  general  and  two  specific  ideas.  The 
general  idea  of  this  comparison,  as  well  as  that  of  the  cedars, 
is  majesty — the  dignity  of  true  greatness.  It  is  in  harmonious 
contrast  to  the  likeness  of  the  cheeks  to  sweet  flowers ;  the  one 
being  the  attractive  beauty,  the  other  the  awful  glory,  of  the 
Messiah  ;  the  one  belonging  to  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  the 
other  to  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah.  The  whole  has  been 
well  described  as  delineating  '  a  sweetly  venerable  majestic  ap- 
pearance' (Harmer),  and  well  paraphrased — 


CHAP.  V.  16.  LEBAXON.  355 

His  eyes  are  glory  mixed  with  grace; 
On  liis  delightful  awful  face, 
Sit  majesty  and  gentleness. 

Watis. 

The  majesty  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  resides  in  his  whole 
person,  both  in  the  human  nature  and  the  divine.     It  resides 
in  the  human  nature  partly  from  its  own  transcendent  excel- 
lence, but  principally  from  its  immediate  and  constant  union 
with  the  Godhead,  for  that  humanity  never  had,  and  never 
can  have,  a  separate  existence.     It  is  Iraraanuel  from  the  first 
conception  in  the  womb — '  that  holy  thing  that  shall  be  born 
of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God;'  it  is  the  'Son  of  man 
which  is  in  heaven,  throughout  his  lowly  life;  and  in  the  last 
humiliation  of  the  grave  it  is  'the  place  where  the  Lord  lay.' 
He  is  'the  King  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord,'  of  whom  it  is 
written  that  '  his  glory  is  great  in  thy  salvation,  honour  and 
majesty  hast  thou  laid  upon  him.'     But  still  more  does  the 
majesty  of  the  Lord  Jesus  dwell  in  his  divine  nature,  and  be- 
comes visible  by  its  union  with  the  human — 'God  manifest  in 
the  flesh.'     In  the  transfiguration,  it  is  neither  the  reflection  of 
another's  glory,  nor  a  glorious  garment  of  created  beauty  like 
that  of  Moses  or  Elias;  but  Christ's  own  divine  glory  appear- 
ing through  the  raiment  of  flesh  that  veils  the  divinity,  mak- 
ing his  face  bright  as  the  sun,  shining  through  the  very  vesture 
that  clothes  the  humanity,  and  rendering  it  also  'white  and 
glistering  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  whiten.'     This  divine 
maiesty  of  the  Lord  Jesus  is  the  same  as  his  Father's,  not 
greater  nor  less,  but  the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and 
the  express  image  of  his  person ;  but  it  is  nearer  to  us,  more 
visible,  and  in  that  respect  more  overawing.     'He  that  hath 
seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father,'  has  not,  indeed,  the  overwhelm- 
ing glory  of  'that  face  which  no  man  hath  seen  nor  can  see;' 
but  has  in  it  more  majesty  and  terror  than  a  general  view  of 
the  unseen  Jehovah.     "When  the  invisible  God  by  his  imme- 
diate presence  stilled  the  waves   to  Jonah's  mariners,  thev 
prayed  and  offered  sacrifices;  but  they  seem  not  to  have  been 
so  overawed  as  the  disciples,  when  Jesus  hushed  the  wind  with 
his  word — 'and  they  were  beyond  measure  astonished,  saying. 


356         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  15. 

What  manner  of  man  is  this!'  The  veiled  majesty  of  Jesus 
admits  of  comparison  to  Lebanon,  and  suffers  itself  to  be  seen; 
while  the  nearness  and  apprehensiblencss  more  enhance  the 
majesty  than  the  veil  obscures  it.  It  is  not  God  hid,  but  'God 
manifest  in  the  flesh.' 

Reader!  hast  thou  seen  for  thyself,  and  with  thine  own  eye 
of  faith,  this  Lebanon-like  majesty  of  Jesus  Christ?  Pie  has 
furnished  thee  with  a  test  by  which  to  try  thyself,  when  he 
said,  'I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me;'  which 
lifting  up,  while  it  refers  to  the  crucifixion,  loses  not  the  origi- 
nal idea  of  being  set  on  high,  exalted,  extolled,  magnified.  It 
is  inherent  in  all  friendly  majesty  to  be  attractive,  drawing  all 
men  toward  itself.  Men  may  deny  majesty  and  despise  it; 
but  they  cannot  own  it,  and  come  within  its  circle,  without 
being  irresistibly  drawn  to  it.  As  the  serpent  by  its  gaze  is 
said  to  draw  the  charmed  bird  nearer  and  nearer  to  itself  even 
at  the  cost  of  life,  so  does  majesty  fix  and  rivet  the  regards  of 
men  towards  itself,  awaking  an  interest,  and  drawing  its  sub- 
ject as  if  bound  by  cords.  If  to  thee  Christ  has  been  lifted 
up,  if  before  thee  his  majesty  has  been  unveiled,  and  thou  hast 
beheld  it  like  the  glory  of  Lebanon,  and  come  within  the  cir- 
cle of  its  influence;  be  sure  that  it  has  bound  thee  and  drawn 
thee  with  cords  which  thou  couldst  not  and  wouldst  not  break, 
and  it  will  draw  thee  bound  with  golden  chains  nearer  to  itself 
for  ever.  If  thou  hast  not  been  so  interested  and  so  attracted, 
be  sure  that  thou  hast  never  'seen  the  glory  of  the  only  be- 
gotten of  the  Father.' 

But  besides  the  general  idea  of  majesty,  the  likeness  to  Leba- 
non suggests  the  two  specific  ideas  of  the  dazzling  whiteness  of 
the  summit,  and  the  lofty  greatness  of  the  whole  mountain 
mass.  There  is  first,  the  '  head  of  Lebanon,  the  snow  of  Leba- 
non,' the  splendour  of  its  snow-crowned  summit,  and  thence, 
like  the  European  Alps,  deriving  its  name  of  Lebanon,  or  white 
mountain.  'His  countenance  like  Lebanon'  was  seen  in  its 
awful  brightness  by  the  Sat-anic  hosts  when,  before  he  opened 
his  lips,  they  cried  out,  '  We  know  thee  who  thou  art,  the  Holy 
One  of  God';  the  glory  of  that  countenance  struck  them  with 
such  fear  that  they  could  not  be  silent,  till  he  subdued  them 


CHAP.  V.  15.  LEBANON.  357 

into  quietness  by  his  word  of  command.  It  was  seen,  but 
more  dimly,  by  human  as  well  as  Satanic  enemies,  as  in  the 
three  several  attempts  to  take  him.  In  Xazareth  when  he  dis- 
coursed of  dread  sovereignty — which  men  nowhere  can  endure 
— of  one  cleansed  leper  out  of  many  and  one  sustained  widow; 
and  when,  'full  of  wrath,  they  led  him  to  the  brow  of  riieir 
hill  to  cast  him  headlong,'  Jesus  'did  not  strive  nor  cry,'  but 
walked  in  his  own  majesty  'through  the  midst  of  them' — the 
dignity  of  his  countenance  and  bearing  overcoming  them  so 
that  they  feared  him;  he  fearing  not  them.  So  agaui,  'the 
officers  sent  to  take  him'  came  without  him,  because,  indeed, 
'he  spake  as  never  man  spake,'  but,  doubtless  also,  because  of 
an  inexpressible  glory  investing  him,  through  which  they 
durst  rK)t  break.  In  the  closing  scene  of  all,  worn  and  wearied 
as  he  was  with  his  midnight  watching  and  bloody  agony,  that 
countenance,  once  dazzling  with  glory,  now  darkened,  and  seen 
only  by  the  gleam  of  the  torches,  yet  shines  with  a  majesty  so 
great,  that  the  armed  men  fall  before  him  on  their  faces  to  the 
ground.  So  also,  his  disciples  saw  that  countenance,  when 
they  'beheld  his  glory  full  of  grace  and  truth;'  wlien  they 
testified  by  the  teaching  of  the  Father  'thou  art  the  Christ 
the  son  of  the  living  God ;'  and  '  when  the  fashion  of  his  coun- 
tenance was  altered,  and  his  face  shone  as  the  sun.'  The  other 
mountains  of  Judea  were  earthly  and  dark,  Lebanon  was  re- 
splendent with  heavenly  brightness ;  and  so  arc  all  other  ob- 
jects of  admiration  but  vessels  of  earth  and  miry  clay,  in  con- 
trast with  the  snowy  brightness  of  the  Bridegroom  of  the 
Church.  Believer!  there  is  also  in  you  a  majestic  reflection 
of  the  glory  of  Messiah's  countenance;  as  the  face  of  Moses 
shone,  reflecting  the  light  he  beheld  within  the  veil ;  and 
Stephen,  when  he  saw  Jesus  standing  on  the  right  hand  of 
God,  reflected  the  Lebanon-like  glory  of  his  countenance,  so 
that  they  who  sat  in  the  council  'saw  his  face  as  it  had  been 
the  face  of  an  angel;'  you  also,  beholding  his  face  like  Leba- 
non, are  '  transformed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory 
as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.' 

But  the  comparison  to  Lebanon  suggests  lofty  greatness,  as 
well  as  snowy  brightness.     The  most  unvarying  remark,  that 


358         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  15. 

is  made  on  all  great  objects,  is  probably  that  of  first  disap- 
pointmeut  succeeded  by  an  admiration  which  constantly  in- 
creases. This  is  specially  true  of  mountains,  down  even  to 
those  mountains  of  man's  formation  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt, 
but  chiefly  of  the  great  mountains  of  the  earth,  like  Lebanon. 
The  Peak  of  Teneriife  is  a  hill  of  nearly  the  same  height  as 
Lebanon,  and  its  first  distant  appearance  from  the  sea  disap- 
points the  hopes  of  many  who  have  been  bringing  within  them 
the  glowing  fancies  of  infancy  to  meet  the  realities  of  nature. 
The  true  Peak  seems  broader  in  the  base,  rounder  on  the  sum- 
mit, and  altogether  lower  and  tamer,  than  the  Peak  of  fancy. 
But  as  the  eye  begins  to  scan  it  more  carefully,  as  it  surveys, 
rising  from  the  sea,  a  vast  mountain  equal  to  the  highest  that 
Scotland  can  claim,  then  a  broad  belt  of  clouds  encircling 
another  portion  of  mountain  almost  equally  high,  and  then 
above  that  a  third  mountain  as  high  as  the  first,  with  its  lofty 
dome  soaring  clear  into  the  heavens,  the  mind  becomes  gradu- 
ally, but  surely  and  deeply,  impressed  with  the  majesty  of  the 
object  before  it.  A  tall  disproportioned  church-spire  of  rock 
would  more  have  met  and  satisfied  your  crude  imagination  at 
first,  but  you  would  not  now  exchange  nature's  mountain,  or 
rather  God's,  for  your  own.  While  you  linger  a  few  days  be- 
neath its  shadow,  it  still  grows  upon  you  hourly ;  and  when 
the  trade-winds  arc  bearing  you  away  swiftly  and  steadily  from 
the  last  faint  iimnings  over  which  your  eye  had  fondly  lin- 
gered, the  mountain  seems  loftier  and  more  majestic  than  ever. 
As  it  is  with  the  mountains  so  it  is  with  Christ,  whose  as- 
pect is  'as  Lebanon.'  A  disproportioned  man,  of  iron  mixed 
with  miry  clay,  has  sometimes  at  first  more  astonished  his 
followers.  But  Christ's  greatness  is  Mike  Lebanon'  in  its  vast 
proportions,  with  a  grandeur  not  at  all  agreeing  with  our  pre- 
conceptions, with  a  majestic  quietness  which  his  enemies  de- 
spise, and  with  which  his  friends  are  not  confounded.  He 
calls  unto  himself  whom  he  will,  they  obey  the  call  and  follow 
— overcome  more  by  the  mysterious  power  and  quiet  mastery 
which  they  feel  to  be  in  Him,  than  by  a  full  perception  of  his 
greatness.  Pie  is,  like  Lebanon,  too  great  for  their  apprehen- 
sion, and  the  elements  of  greatness  are  too  well  mingled  and 


CHAP.  V.  15.  LEBANON.  359 

proportioned  to  repel  or  terrify  them.  From  time  to  time 
they  ai-e  astonished  at  the  'manner  of  man'  with  whom  they 
are  holding  reverent  fellowship.  When  Hhe  net  is  filled  with 
fishes'  by  his  secret  Mominion  over  all  that  passes  through 
the  sea/  Peter  feels  as  if  he  had  been  Avrong  in  his  familiar 
association  with  him,  and,  standing  back  overawed,  exclaims, 
'Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man!'  The  aspect  like 
Lebanon  begins  to  be  apprehended,  and  it  grows  continually, 
as  it  will  grow  for  ever.  When  he  is  seen  in  his  majesty  in 
the  Mount,  they  are  as  men  beside  themselves,  they  feel  them- 
selves to  be  foolish  in  his  sight,  and  '  wist  not  what  to  say.' 
When  he  goes  up  to  Jerusalem,  they  follow  him  '  amazed,'  un- 
able to  refrain  from  following,  trembling  for  the  result,  yet 
not  daring  to  interrupt  his  determined  progress  toward  'the 
whited  sepulchre'  that  yawned  for  the  Prince  of  the  prophets. 
When  he  rises  from  the  dead,  and  kindly  invites  them  to 
'come  and  dine,'  'they  durst  not  ask  who  he  is,  knowing  that 
it  is  Jesus.'  Had  they  thought  him  any  other  they  could  have 
asked,  and  their  believing  him  to  be  Jesus  does  not  check  the 
desire,  but  so  subdues  them  with  awe  that  they  dare  not  ask. 
Who  art  thou  ?  Finally,  John  the  loved  and  loving  disciple, 
who  leans  on  his  bosom  at  supper,  when  he  beholds  the  same 
Jesus  in  his  heavenly  majesty,  'falls  at  his  feet  as  dead.' 

So  it  is  with  all  his  followers  in  their  growing  knowledge 
of  Jesus — 'his  countenance  is'  to  them  'as  Lebanon.'  His 
greatness,  little  apprehended  at  first,  gradually  unfolds  itself, 
so  that  the  cheeks  '  which  are  as  sweet  flowers '  at  first,  are 
afterwards  succeeded  by  the  countenance  'like  Lebanon'  in  glori- 
ous majesty.  He  deals  so  condescendingly  with  us  that  we  are 
little  aware  of  his  greatness,  till  he  unveils  himself  from  time 
to  time.  The  youngest  believer  will  often  say  '  his  cheeks  are 
as  sweet  flowers,'  admiring  his  beauty ;  the  oldest  will  add, 
'his  countenance  is  like  Lebanon,'  revering  his  majesty.  Yet 
this  hinders  not,  but  helps,  a  nearer  apprehension  of  his  love, 
for  it  is  immediately  added,  'his  mouth  is  most  sweet.'  In 
every  other  beloved,  in  all  idols  of  every  kind,  in  all  mere 
creatures  however  glorious,  there  is  a  limit  to  beauty  and 
to  majesty;  and  their  warmest  admirers  must  at  last  say  of 


360       THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.     CHAP.  V.  15. 

them,  'I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection.'  But  the  Leba- 
non-like development  of  Christ  to  our  apprehension  will  con- 
tinue for  ever,  and  the  saying  of  his  forerunner  hold  for  ever 
good,  that  '  he  must  increase ' — the  martyred  Baptist  reveren- 
cing more  this  day,  as  he  beholds  the  Lamb,  than  in  the  hour 
when  his  sj^irit  fled  from  its  prison  into  heavenly  freedom. 

EXCELLENT  AS  THE  CEDARS. 

Excellent  as  the  cedars — not  in  the  countenance  exclusively, 
but  in  the  whole  aspect  and  appearance,  as  the  word  implies. 
Christ,  compared  to  Lebanon  which  was  glorious  among  the 
mountains,  is  next  compared  to  the  cedar,  which  was  excellent 
among  the  trees.  The  comparison  comes  fitly  from  the  mouth 
of  Solomon,  who  'spake  of  trees,  from  the  hyssop  growing  on 
the  wall  to  the  cedar  in  Lebanon';  who  cut  down  the  cedars 
of  Lebanon  to  build  and  beautify  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  Svhen 
a  man  was  famous  as  he  lifted  up  the  axe  against  their  boughs;' 
but  who,  remembering  that  there  is  a  Hime  to  plant  as  well 
as  to  pluck  up,'  and  that  it  is  fit  that  even  the  trees  of  the  field 
should  not  suffer  by  the  work  of  the  Lord,  rested  not  till  he 
had  planted  more  than  he  had  cut  down,  and  '  made  the  cedars 
as  the  sycamores  in  the  vale,  for  abundance.'  In  all  these 
things  the  excellence  of  the  cedar  is  acknowledged,  and  this  ex- 
cellence the  Church  ascribes  to  Christ.  'His  visage  so  marred 
more  than  any  man,  and  his  form  more  than  the  sons  of  men,' 
is  the  world's  estimate  of  Christ;  'his  countenance  like  Leba- 
non, and  his  form  like  the  cedars'  is  the  Church's  estimate. 
We  all  naturally  regard  him  as  'a  tender  plant  and  a  root  out 
of  a  dry  ground;'  not  to  be  numbered  among  the  trees,  a  mere 
'heath  of  the  desert';  not  to  be  numbered  among  the  sons  of 
men,  ""a  worm  and  no  man.'  But  to  the  believer  he  is  'fairer 
than  the  sons  of  men,'  more  excellent  than  all  the  trees  of  the 
field — noble  and  lofty  above  all  men,  as  the  cedar  is  above  the 
bramble,  the  thistle,  or  the  hyssop.  These  are  the  extremes — 
from  the  bramble  to  the  cedar  is  Jotham's  contrast,  from  the 
thistle  to  the  cedar  Jehoshua's,  from  the  hyssop  to  the  cedar 
Solomon's;  and  gladly  does  the  Bride  accept  them  all,  and 


CHAP.  V.  15  EXCELLENT    AS    THE    CEDARS.  361 

declare  Christ  to  excel  all  others,  as  much  as  the  cedar  excels 
each  of  these.  Christ  loves  to  call  himself  the  Father's  vine- 
tree — in  humility,  in  dependence  on  the  Father,  in  fruitful- 
uess  ;  but  he  is  vine  and  cedar  both,  and  the  Church  calls  him 
the  cedar,  in  lofty  superiority  above  all  men  and  all  creatures. 

Then  also,  in  duration  Christ  is  likened  to  the  cedar ;  for 
^his  name  shall  endure  for  ever.'  Amongst  living  things  on 
earth,  a  tree  is  by  far  the  most  lasting,  and  amongst  the  trees 
the  cedar  is  famed  for  durability.  The  wild  beast  passes  by 
and  treads  down  the  thistle,  and  even  untrodden  it  would  have 
quickly  perished.  'All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  goodliness 
thereof  as  the  flower  of  the  field;  the  grass  withereth,  the 
flower  fadeth,  because  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  bloweth  upon  it ; 
surely  the  people  is  grass.'  Like  grass  every  other  beloved 
withereth  away,  but  Hhe  Son  abideth  for  ever — excellent  as 
the  cedars.' 

The  cedar,  further,  is  excellent  in  perpetual  greenness — 'the 
trees  of  God  are  full  of  sap,  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  which  he 
hath  planted.'  This  tree  of  God  is  full  of  sap,  this  cedar  of 
Lebanon  Avhich  he  hath  planted;  'the  green  tree'  as  Jesus 
calls  himself;  the  one  green  tree  among  the  dry  trees  that  are 
fit  only  for  fuel;  the  one  green  cedar  among  the  brambles  and 
the  thorns.  But  the  trees  of  the  field  rejected  the  cedar  in  its 
glory  and  its  greenness;  'not  this  man;  away  with  him  !'  we 
all  cried;  and  we  chose  the  murderer's  bloody  knife,  the 
bramble,  the  pricking  thorn  fit  only  for  the  fire — 'give  us 
Barabbas !' 

The  fragrance  of  the  cedar  we  shall  not  consider,  because 
the  quality  of  fragrance  has  been  already  so  frequently  noticed. 
But  we  cannot  omit  to  note,  that  amongst  the  other  excel- 
lences of  the  cedar  which  render  it  a  meet  emblem  of  Him  who 
is  altogether  lovely,  the  Spirit  expressly  sets  forth  Christ  as  a 
refuge,  under  the  image  of  the  Cedar,  in  the  following  remarka- 
ble passage  in  the  seventeenth  of  Ezekiel : — 'Thus  saith  the 
Lord  God,  I  will  also  take  of  the  highest  branch  of  the  high 
cedar,  and  will  set  it;  I  will  crop  off  from  the  top  of  his 
young  twigs  a  tender  one,  and  will  plant  it  upon  an  high 
mouiitain  and  eminent;  in  the  mountain  of  the  height  of  Israel 


362  THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  16. 

Nvill  I  plant  it,  and  it  shall  bring  forth  boughs,  and  bear  fruit, 
and  be  a  goodly  cedar;  and  under  it  shall  dwell  all  fowl  of 
every  wing,  in  the  shadow  of  the  branches  thereof  shall  they 
dwell.'  It  is  a  '  tender  twig/  mean  and  weak,  yet  is  cropped 
'■  from  the  highest  branch  of  the  high  cedar ;'  sprung  from  the 
royal  race  of  Judah,  and  from  a  root  higher  than  of  all  earthly 
kings.  In  the  humble  birth,  in  the  lowly  life,  and  still  more 
in  the  humiliation  unto  death  and  burial,  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
this  cedar  twig  is  planted  in  the  mountain  of  the  height  of 
Israel,  in  mount  Zion,  till  it  brings  forth  boughs  and  becomes 
a  goodly  cedar.  Christ  is  compared  to  ^a  handful  of  corn  on 
the  top  of  the  mountain,'  which  dies  in  the  earth  and  springs 
up  with  such  abundance  of  fruit,  that  the  tall  corn  is  likened 
to  the  waving  cedars  of  Lebanon — two  images  blended  into 
one.  But  here,  though  the  cedar  itself  is  represented  as  fruit- 
ful, the  single  image  is  retained;  because  the  fruit  is  not  for 
man  but  for  birds,  and  the  tree  aflPorcls  both  rest  and  refuge  to 
'all  fowl  of  every  wing.'  What  a  goodly  emblem  of  Christ 
and  his  kingdom  ! — like  the  mustard  seed  becoming  greatest 
among  herbs,  and  the  birds  lodging  in  its  branches.  Perishing  . 
simier!  what  an  invitation  for  you;  how  attractive  an  object 
is  before  you!  All  fowl  of  every  wing  are  called,  great  and 
small,  swift  and  slow,  clean  and  unclean — 'O  Jerusalem!  Je- 
rusalem! how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  to- 
gether, even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  brood  beneath  her  wings!' 
Some  come  not,  being  secure,  as  if  they  needed  no  refuge;  others 
come  not,  being  afraid,  as  if  there  were  no  refuge  for  them. 
But  blessed  is  he  who  understands  and  believes,  that  it  is  for 
'all  fowl  of  every  wing;'  and  tarries  not  until  the  words  are 
his  own,  not  in  threatening  but  in  love, — 'O  inhabitant  of 
Lebanon,  who  makest  thy  nest  in  the  cedars  V 

THE  SWEETNESS. 

His  mouth,  is  most  sweet. — The  tenth  and  last  feature  of  the 
Beloved  is  the  mouth — seven  features  being  described  in  the 
Bride,  and  ten  in  the  King;  each  a  perfect  number  in  its  kind, 
but  the  King's  a  greater  and  more  glorious  perfection.     'His 


CHAP.  V.  16.  THE  SWEETNESS.  363 

mouth/  the  Church  declares,    'is  most  sweet' — literally,   is 
sweetness,  consists  of  nothing  but  sweetness,  and  contains  all 
possible  sweetness.     The  words  having  been  already  included 
in  the  lips  Irom  svhicli  they  flow,  are  not  principally  now  de- 
signed by  the  mouth;  yet  the  mouth  can  never  be  severed 
from  the  words,  and  assuredly  the  words  of  Christ's  mouth  are 
'  most  sweet.'     All  inspired  words  are  equally  true,  and  equally 
the  foundation  of  our  faith  and  hope;  but  it  is  no  disparagement 
to  the  servant,  to  confess  that  the  Father  hath  put  special  hon- 
our on  his  Son  in  his  words,  as  in  all  things  else.     There  is 
unutterable  sweetness  in  all  the  words  of  Jesus — 'I  am  the 
bread  of  Life — I  am  the  true  vine — I  am  the  good  shepherd — 
Come  unto  me  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'     Even  amongst  in- 
spired words,  those  that  flow  from  the  Beloved's  own  mouth 
are  the  sweetest.     Along  with  the  words  of  Jesus,  the  kiss  of 
his  mouth  is  most  sweet^the  friendship,  the  fellowship,  the 
communion,  more  than  words  can  utter.     It  is  Christ  Jesus 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Father  communicating  himself  to  the  soul, 
giving  his  whole  heart  to  the  heart  that  trusteth  in  him.     It 
is  in  some  respects  more  than  all  the  other  features  that  precede, 
for  it  is  the  communication  of  them  all  to  the  soul;  it  is  the 
love,  the  affection,  the  grace — all  the  love,  grace,  and  kindness 
communicated — of  Him 'whose  head  is  fine  gold,  on  whose 
hands  are  gold  rings,  whose  cheeks  are  sweet  flowers,  Mdiose 
countenance  is  like  Lebanon.'     'Let  him  kiss  me  with  the 
kisses  of  his  mouth — for  his  mouth  is  most  sweet' — the  soul 
is  passive ;  it  embraces  not,  but  is  embraced ;  the  King  eternal, 
immortal,  invisible,  not  only  reveals  his  own  loveliness,  but 
communicates  his  own  love  to  the  soul.     Such  communication 
is  'most  sweet,'  is  sweetness  itself,  and  renders  all  other  sweet- 
ness insipid;  it  is  'peace  that  passeth  understanding,  joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory,  consolation  exceeding  great  and 
abounding,'     Saints  err  in  not  'coveting  more  earnestly  such 
best  gifts'  of  the  love  of  Christ. 

But  the  mouth  implies,  further,  the  breath  of  Jesus,  which 
is  most  sweet.  Jesus  'breathed  on  the  disciples  and  said, — 
Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost!'  and  from  that  hour  this  breath 
has  filled  the  earth  with  its  sweetness.     It  is  the  breath  of  Plim 


364         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  Ho. 

who  was  conceived  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  anointed  witliout 
measure  with  spiritual  fragrance;  the  breath  of  him  who  rose 
from  the  mountain  of  myrrh  and  stands  on  the  hill  of  Irankiu- 
cense,  containing  all  the  fragrance  of  that  infinite  frankincense 
and  myrrh.  ^  With  the  breath  of  his  lips  he  slays  the  wicked/ 
and  the  righteous  answer,  'True  and  righteous  are  thy  judg- 
ments ! — his  mouth  is  most  sweet.'  With  the  breath  of  his 
lips,  in  keen  conviction,  he  pierces  through  the  self-righteous 
soul,  yet  even  then,  'his  mouth  is  sweet'  to  that  soul.  You 
had  'woven  the  spider's  web';  the  airy  fabric,  that  'could  never 
become  a  garment'  to  cover  you,  shone  beauteous  before  your 
eyes  as  the  web  of  the  spider  in  the  morning  sun;  Jesus  drew 
near  and  breathed  upon  it,  and  your  works  and  your  hopes 
perished  like  a  vision  of  the  night.  Yet  even  in  that  hour 
'his  mouth  was  most  sweet ;'  such  a  fragrance  from  his  breath 
filled  the  air  around  you,  that  you  rejoiced  in  the  very  breath 
that  scattered  your  former  hopes;  and  soon  you  saw  and  knew 
Him  whose  balmy  breath  it  was.  '  His  mouth  is  most  sweet !' — 
how  it  fills  the  soul! — how  it  fills  the  assembly  of  the  saints 
with  exquisite  fragrance! — how  the  least  moving  of  his  breath 
transforms  all  into  life,  joy,  and  praise! 

'His  mouth  a  triple  heaven  reveals, 
His  word,  his  breath,  his  kiss: 
A  triple  doom  to  all  it  seals, 
Who  spurn  the  proffered  bliss.' 


THE  PERFECT  LOVELINESS. 

Yea,he  is  altogether  lovely. — There  is,  first,  nothing  unlovely 
in  Him,  nothing  that  the  believer  would  desire  to  have  removed. 
Men  desire  that  their  objects  of  affection  should  be  lovely,  they 
invest  them  with  imaginary  beauty,  and  their  very  blemishes 
they  often  admire  and  love.  But  Christ  is  altogether  lovely — 
with  nothing  to  be  removed,  nothing  to  be  altered,  nothing 
unlovely.  Men  conceal,  and  rightly  cover,  the  failings  of 
their  friends ;  but  there  is  nothing  in  Jesus  to  conceal,  to  dis- 
guise, to  excuse;  for  he  is  altogether  lovely.     The  Bride  glo- 


CHAP.  V.  16.  THE    PERFECT    LOVELINESS.  365 

ries  in  an  object  that  can  stand  the  utmost  sifting.  The  world 
hates  Christ,  and  though  it  dare  not  express  the  hatred,  it 
would  remove  much  from  his  character  if  it  had  the  choice. 
'Blessed  is  the  man,'  saith  Jesus,  'that  is  not  offended  in  me' — 
who  finds  nothing  in  Christ  at  which  he  stumbles.  There  is, 
next,  nothing  lovely  that  is  wanting  in  him.  All  that  is  lovely 
in  the  Creator,  all  that  is  lovely  in  the  creature,  all  that  is 
lovely  in  heaven,  all  that  is  lovely  in  earth,  all  contrasted  ele- 
ments of  loveliness,  all  assembled  features  of  grace,  all  loveli- 
ness possible,  and  all  loveliness  conceivable,  are  found  in  him. 
Let  all  the  universe  seek  out  and  bring  some  rarest  element 
of  loveliness,  or,  searching  without  discovering,  let  them  ex- 
press the  want;  and  they  will  find  it  already  in  all  its  fullness 
in  Jesus.  Further,  there  is  the  utmost  loveliness  in  him  throutrh- 
out.  Every  part,  every  feature,  of  Jesus  is  lovely  and  is  alto- 
gether lovely;  his  character  and  person  are  composed  of  ele- 
ments which  are  each  faultless  and  most  lovely ;  and  all  are 
combined  into  the  utmost  loveliness  in  one  glorious  whole. 

Christ  is  altogether  lovely  in  both  his  natures,  in  all  his  per- 
son, in  all  his  character,  in  all  his  words,  in  all  his  works, 
and  in  all  his  ways.  He  is  lovely  in  his  birth,  lovely  in  his 
infancy,  lovely  in  his  boyhood,  lovely  in  his  youth,  lovely  in 
his  manhood,  lovely  in  his  mourning,  lovely  in  his  rejoicing, 
lovely  in  his  feasting,  lovely  in  his  fasting;  lovely  in  his  speech, 
lovely  in  his  silence ;  lovely  as  a  prophet,  as  a  priest,  as  a 
king ;  lovely  as  a  shepherd,  as  a  saviour,  as  a  husband ;  lovely 
sitting  on  the  throne  of  grace,  lovely  seated  on  the  throne  of 
judgment;  lovely  as  a  Son,  lovely  as  a  Brother,  lovely  as  a 
Servant.  Christ  is  lovely  when  without  a  pillow  whereon  to 
lay  his  head,  and  lovely  in  the  mansions  of  his  Father;  lovelv 
in  his  rebukes,  and  lovely  in  his  consolations;  lovely  in  his 
cross,  and  lovely  in  his  crown.  He  is  lovely  in  himself,  lovely 
in  his  ordinances,  lovely  in  his  saints;  lovely  yesterday,  lovely 
to-day,  lovely  for  ever — yea  'he  is  altogether  lovely.' 

All  the  saints  partake  of  the  loveliness  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  but  none  of  them  has  been  altogether  lovely ;  and  it 
appears  to  have  pleased  the  Father  to  suffer  their  defects  to 
be  most  visible  in  the  very,  graces  for  which  they  have  been 


366         THE  BEAUTY  OF  THE  BELOVED.   CHAP.  V.  16. 

most  eminent.     Noah,  who  alone  in  the  old  world  was  moved 
with  fear  of  things  unseen,  sinks  into  the  heart  of  things  seen 
and  temporal,  plants  a  vineyard,  and  is  overcome  of  wine; 
Abraham,  the  father  of  the  faithful,  distrusts  God  in  Egypt ; 
Moses,  the  meekest  of  men  on  earth,  hastily  slays  the  Egyptian, 
and  is  provoked  with  Israel;  Job,  the  most  patient  of  men, 
curses  the  day  of  his  birth ;  the  man  according  to  God's  own 
heart  commits  sin  most  offensive  to  God,  and  more  contrary 
to  His  heart,  than  the  sins  of  other  saints;  Peter,  noted  for 
courage,  sins  by  cowardice,  denying  Jesus,  and  dissembling 
for  fear  of  the  circumcision;  and  John,  distinguished  by  love, 
asks  liberty  to  call  down  fire  from  heaven  on  his  fellow-men. 
The  most  remarkable  sins  of  the  most  eminent  saints  have  often 
not  been  'sins  easily  besetting  them,'  but  contrary  to  their  whole 
character,  and  sad  failings  in  the  very  graces  for  which  they 
were  distinguished :  as  if  the  Lord  would  have  us  see  the  un- 
loveliness  that  is  in  the  loveliest  of  men ;  as  if  he  v/ould  debar 
us  from  looking  to  any  other  in  earth  or  in  heaven;  and  even, 
by  the  saddest  falls  of  saints,  shut  us  up  to  Him  alone  who  is 
'the  chief  among  ten  thousand  and  altogether  lovely.' 

This  is  my  Beloved,  and  this  is  my  Friend,  0  daughters  of 
Jerusalem! — 'This  is  my  beloved,'  whom  I  love,  whom  my 
soul  loveth, — how  wondrous  that  he  suffers  me  to  love  him, 
that  he  desires  me  to  love  him,  and  that  I,  so  unlovely,  should 
have  one  so  glorious  for  the  object  of  my  love!  This  is  my 
Beloved,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem! — can  ye  inquire  why  I 
love  him?  But 'this  is' also 'my  Friend' — who  hath  loved 
me — who  doth  love  me — who  will  love  me  for  ever;  who 
hath  befriended  me  when  I  was' friendless,  who  'will  never 
leave  nor  forsake'  me,  who  calls  me  his  'friend'  now,  and  '  will 
confess  my  name  before  his  Father  and  his  holy  angels.' 

Ye  ask  me,  daughters  of  Jerusalem !  '  What  is  thy  Beloved 
more  than  another  beloved?'  and  ye  repeat  the  question,  as  if 
ye  would  inquire  both  what  my  Beloved  is,  and  what  my  Be- 
loved has,  more  than  another  beloved,  and  ye  have  the  reply : 
'My  Beloved  is  both  white  and  red,  he  is  the  chiefest  among 
ten  thousand,  his  head  is  the  most  fine  gold,  his  locks  are  bushy 
and  black  as  a  raven,  his  eyes  are  as  doves  by  the  rivers  of 


CHAP.  V.  IG.  THE   PERFECT    LOVELINESS.  367 

waters,  his  checks  are  as  spices  and  sweet  flowers,  his  lips  are 
lilies  dropping  myrrh,  he  has  on  his  hands  gold  rings  with 
engraven  gems,  his  body  is  like  ivory  and  his  girdle  of  sap- 
phires, his  legs  are  pillars  of  marble  on  golden  sockets,  his 
countenance  is  like  Lebanon,  and  his  aspect  like  its  cedars,  his 
mouth  is  most  sweet — yea,  he  is  altogether  lovely.  This  is 
my  Beloved,  and  this  is  my  Friend.'     Amen!  and  Amen! 

All  over  glorious  is  my  Lord, 

Must  be  beloved,  and  yet  adored; 

His  worth  if  all  the  nations  knew, 

Sure  the  whole  earth  would  love  him  too. 

WaU8. 


368        THE   bridegroom's   brief   RETURX.      chap.  VI.  1-10. 


XVIII. 

THE  BRIDEGROOM'S  BRIEF  RETURN. 

THE  MORNING  TWILIGHT— LAST  PORTRAIT  OF  THE 
BRIDE  BY  TPIE  KING— THE  BRIDE'S  PORTRAIT  BY 
THE  QUEENS. 

Whither  is  thy  beloved  gone?  0  thou  fairest  among  women!  whither 
is  thy  beloved  turned  aside?  that  we  may  seek  him  with  thee.  My  be- 
loved is  gone  down  into  his  garden,  to  the  b^ds  of  spices,  to  feed  in  the 
gardens,  and  to  gather  lilies.  I  am  my  beloved's,  and  my  beloved  is 
mine:  he  feedeth  among  the  lilies.  Thou  art  beautiful,  O  my  love,  as 
Tirzah,  comely  as  Jerusalem,  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners.  Turn 
away  thine  eyes  from  me,  for  they  have  overcome  me:  thy  hair  is  as  a 
flock  of  goats  that  appear  from  Gilead :  thy  teeth  are  as  a  flock  of  sheep 
which  go  up  from  the  washing,  Vi'hereof  every  one  beareth  twins,  and  tlicre 
is  not  one  barren  among  them :  as  a  piece  of  a  pomegranate  are  thy  tem- 
ples within  thy  locks.  There  are  threescore  queens,  and  fourscore  con- 
cubines, and  virgins  without  number.  Jly  dove,  my  undefiled,  is  but  one; 
she  is  the  only  one  of  her  mother,  she  is  the  choice  one  of  her  that  bare 
her:  the  daughters  saw  her,  and  blessed  her;  yea,  the  queens  and  the 
concubines,  and  they  praised  her.  Who  is  she  that  looketh  forth  as  the 
morning,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and  terrible  as  a7i  army  with 
banners? — Chap.  vi.  1-10. 

THE   MOENIKG  TWILIGHT. 

Whither  is  thy  Beloved  gone  f  0  thou  fairest  among  ivomen! 
w/iither  is  thy  Beloved  turned  aside?  that  we  may  seek  him  xoith 
thee. — In  the  time  of  the  Bride's  deepest  distress,  the  inquiring 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  become  most  interested  both  in  herself 
and  in  her  Beloved.  They,  first  of  all,  inquire  what  her  Be- 
loved is  more  than  others,  partly  in  doubt  and  partly  in  de- 
sire; but  at  the  same  time  they  sec  her  beaut}^  in  the  midst  of 
her  sorrow;  and,  notwithstanding  her  wounds  by  the  watchmen, 
they  call  her  the  'fairest  among  women.'  In  the  soul  that  is 
earnestly  lamenting  after  the  Lord,  there  lies  hid  a  deep  power 


CHAP.  VI.  1.  THE   MORNING   TWILIGHT.  3G9 

of  attraction,  which  seldom  fails  to  draw  others  toward  its  ob- 
ject. A  state  of  mere  spiritual  uiihappiness  and  discomfort, 
arising  often  from  want  of  a  close  walk  with  God,  works  little 
else  than  harm  in  the  world,  and  makes  men  dislike  religion 
for  its  sadness,  while  it  has  no  compensating  strength.  But 
true  longing  after  Christ  in  darkness  and  brokenness  of  heart, 
has  power  in  the  inner  man,  power  with  God,  and  power  with 
the  world  around ;  and  in  such  a  soul  the  heedful  onlooker  sees 
a  dignity  and  beauty,  far  above  all  that  the  world  can  boast. 
Having  asked  who  the  Beloved  is,  they  now  inquire  whither 
the  Beloved  has  gone,  with  the  design  and  resolution  of  seek- 
ing him — not  yet  their  own  Beloved,  but  one  whom  they  desire 
to  Hnek  from  more  than  mere  sympathy  with  the  desolate  Bride. 

Thou  fairest  of  us  all ! 

Whither  is  thy  Lover  gone? 
Tell  us  and  we  will  goe  with  thee, 

Thou  shalt  not  goe  alone. 

Draijton. 

lu  the  dark  night  of  Christ's  crucifixion  and  burial,  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  begin  to  join  themselves  to  Ihe  chil- 
dren of  the  bride-chamber.  Joseph  of  iVrimathea  and  iS^ico- 
demus  now  mourn  for  Christ  along  with  his  disciples,  openly 
associating  themselves  with  his  professed  followers;  and  there 
must  have  been  hundreds  of  others  both  among  the  thought- 
ful men  of  the  city,  and  amongst  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
who  followed  Christ  with  tears  to  Calvary,  whoso  hearts  were 
now  moved  with  various  convictions  and  desires,  which  were 
soon  to  break  forth  in  the  cry,  'What  shall  we  do?'  In  all 
probability,  the  rich  men  who  embalmed  him  with  costly  odours 
were  not  singular  in  the  expression  of  th(.'ir  symjjathy  with  the 
bereaved,  and  their  sorrow  for  the  departed.  But  neither  in 
the  sorrow  of  that  day,  nor  iu  the  darkness  of  the  deserted 
soul,  can  any  of  the  children  of  men  bring  back  an  absent  Lord. 

Fairest  of  maids !  we  wish  thee  well, 
And  would  ourselves  thy  search  attend; 

But  none  of  us,  alas!  can  tell, 
Whither  thy  Lover's  footsteps  tend. 

Grad.  of  Ox/. 


370  THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  2. 

My  Beloved  is  gone  doian  into  Jiis  garden,  to  the  beds  of  spices, 
to  feed  in  the  gardens,  and  to  gather  lilies. — The  body  of  Jesus 
was  resting  embalmed  in  the  garden  of  the  sepulchre,  'in  the 
mountain  of  myrrh  and  the  hill  of  frankincense;'  and  his  soul 
had  departed  to  the  Garden  of  Paradise  above,  to  the  beds  of 
everlasting  spices.  In  the  last  verse  of  the  Song,  the  prayer 
to  come  down  from  the  'mountain  of  spices,'  shows  that  'the 
hill  of  God,  where  Christ  standeth  an  high-priest  for  ever- 
more,' is  now  'the  hill  of  frankincense  and  the  mountain  of 
myrrh.'  But  there  were  no  mountains  of  spices  above,  except 
in  purpose  and  in  earnest,  till  Christ  had  gone  to 

'That  Garden  in  the  Holy  Mount, 
Where  he  designed  three  nights  to  lie 
In  spices  wrapt.' 

There  are  various  mountains  mentioned  in  the  earlier  part 
ot  the  Song,  but  no  mountains  of  spices.  There  are  lions'  dens 
and  mountains  of  leopards — there  are  mountains  and  hills  on 
which  'the  Beloved  comes  leaping  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart,' 
but  they  are  '  mountains  of  Bether,'  mountains  of  division,  and 
not  mountains  of  myrrh.  The  first  mention  of  such  hills  is 
in  the  Bridegroom's  taking  leave  of  the  Bride,  when  he  tells 
her  that  he  must  depart  'to  the  mountain  of  myrrh  and  the 
hill  of  frankincense  till  the  dawning  of  the  day.'  He  went  to 
that  mountain  at  his  death,  and  returned  from  it  for  a  brief 
moment  at  his  resurrection;  and  it  is  very  remarkable  that 
what  he  calls  '  getting  him  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh,'  she 
calls  'going  down  to  the  garden,  to  the  beds  of  spices' — the 
garden  in  the  Holy  Mount  where  he  lay  entombed.  Now,  the 
hill  on  which  he  stands  at  God's  right  hand  is  the  hill  of 
frankincense,  whence  the  Bride  entreats  him  to  descend  for  the 
final  marriage  of  the  Lamb. 

A7id  to  gather  lilies. — When  the  Beloved  went  away,  his  soul 
was  'feeding  in  the  garden  of  Eden' — resting  and  refreshing 
himself  amongst  the  redeemed  in  Paradise.  But  he  did  not 
depart  without  'gathering'  for  himself  one  lily  in  token  and 
earnest  of  the  countless  lilies  he  should  now  commence  to  cull 
for  heaven.     From  beside  him   on  the  cross — from  the  very 


CHAP.  VI.  2.  THE   MORNING    TWILIGHT.  371 

heart  of  the  thorns,  he  plucked  a  snowy  lily,  and  took  it  with 
him  as  a  flower  for  his  bridal  garland,  saying  to  the  doing 
penitent,  'To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise!' 

His  'going  down  to  the  garden'  does  not  imply  such  re- 
stricting of  himself  within  its  walls  as  not  to  be  gathering 
choice  flowers  to  plant  within  it;  and  'the  gathering  of  lilies' 
implies,  first,  the  calling  of  ransomed  souls  out  of  the  desert 
into  the  garden  of  grace,  the  seeking  out  of  lost  sheep  and 
bringing  them  into  his  fold  among  the  flock,  the  gathering  of 
new-blown  lilies  among  the  thorns,  and  planting  them  to- 
gether in  his  garden.  This  blessed  work  of  the  Lord  is  the 
first  comfort  of  the  deserted  Bride — that  though  she  seems  to 
be  forgot,  he  has  not  forsaken  his  Church — that  though  he  is 
neither  standing  before  her  late-opened  door,  nor  tarrying  for 
her  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  he  is  caring  for  the  souls  of 
men,  and  gathering  fresh  lilies  for  his  garden.  His  creative 
power  has  made  them  spring  in  the  desert,  his  eye  has  seen 
them  blossoming  there,  and  his  hand  has  transplanted  them 
within  the  walled  enclosure  of  his  kingdom.  There  is  no  joy 
greater  to  Christ  than  this;  the  Bride  knows  it  well,  and  has 
no  higher  delight  than  that  he  should  be  thus  engaged.  It 
implies,  next,  the  transplanting  of  them  into  heaven;  gather- 
ing them  for  the  Paradise  above.  These  two  works  are  some- 
times separate,  at  other  times  simultaneous.  In  the  hour  of 
his  own  weariness,  he  gathers  that  rare  lily  at  the  well  of  Sychar 
and  plants  it  in  his  garden  on  earth;  after  Pentecost,  he  gathers 
many  lilies  into  his  garden  on  earth,  and  gathers  Stephen 
and  James  into  his  garden  above.  He  gathers  some  in  the 
same  day  into  both ;  as  when  he  gathered  the  lily  from  the 
cross  beside  him  into  the  garden  of  grace,  and  within  a  few 
hours  into  the  garden  of  glory.  Let  us  not  grudge  too  much 
when  he  gathers  his  own  lilies  for  himself,  however  great  our 
own  loss  may  appear !  Thorns  too  many,  and  lilies  too  ^evf, 
are  found  on  our  earth  ;  yet  let  us  rejoice  when  the  Lord  has 
lilies  to  gather  for  the  garden  of  Eden ;  let  us  give  thanks  if 
he  finds  such  flowers  in  the  midst  of  us ;  and  let  us  seek  for 
ourselves  to  'grow  like  the  lily,'  that  when  he  stretches  his 
hand  to  gather  us  also,  we  may  be  as  fresh  and  fragrant  flowers 
for  his  gardens  above! 

X 


372  THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  2. 

Yea,  in  his  gardens  is  my  gracious  Lord, 

Culling  his  lilies  with  judicious  hand. 

For  beauty  and  delight  he  leaveth  some, 

Or  future  solace,  to  the  souls  he  loves, 

But  oft  he  cuts  them  in  their  beauteous  prime, 

Oft  in  their  opening  freshness,  when  he  sees 

The  coming  storm,  or  hot  meridian  beam, 

Too  trying  for  the  frail  and  bending  stem ; 

Home  then  he  takes  them,  and  their  bloom  is  there, 

Where  mortal  vision  penetrateth  not, — Meditations. 

It  must  not  be  overlooked  in  this  narrative,  that  the  smitten 
soul  that  is  sick  of  love  is  the  first  to  discover  where  Christ  is 
occupied  in  the  vineyard  of  his  kingdom.  He  is,  indeed,  al- 
way  returning  thither ;  but  any  special  manifestation  of  his 
presence  in  the  Church  in  the  quickening  of  his  saints  and  the 
calling  of  sinners,  such  a  soul  is  ever  the  first  to  observe  if  it 
be  near,  and  to  hear  of  when  distant;  for  the  heart  and  sym- 
pathy of  the  true  Bride  are  with  her  Beloved  and  all  his  goings. 
Such  a  soul  is  the  first  to  rejoice  in  Christ's  manifestation  to 
others,  though  it  is  not  itself  enjoying  'the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance'; and  nothing  more  surely  marks  a  true  heart  toward 
God  than  the  quick  apprehension  of  his  presence,  and  unfeigned 
delighting  in  it  wherever  manifested. 

My  heart  seems  to  tell  me  my  Love  has  descended, 
To  the  garden  of  sweets  to  inhale  their  perfume ; 

The  lilies  to  which  his  dear  hand  is  extended, 
When  plucked,  in  his  bosom  immortally  bloom. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

There  is,  further,  a  most  instructive  answer  from  the  Bride 
to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  who  ask  whither  her  Beloved 
is  gone  that  they  may  seek  him  with  her.  She  has  not  forgot 
the  holy  lesson  she  had  learned,  of  bringing  the  King  into  her 
mother's  house ;  and,  in  her  own  sorrow,  she  tells  these  in- 
quiring daughters  that  he  is  'gathering  lilies,'  in  order  that 
they  may  go  to  the  garden  and  themselves  be  gathered  among 
•  them.  But  some  inquiring  soul  will  object — I  can  never  be 
numbered  with  those  lilies,  I  have  not  kept  myself  from  the 
snare  of  the  destroyer,  I  have  lost  what  external  innocence  I 


CHAP.  VI.  3.  THE   MORNING   TWILIGHT.  373 

possessed,  I  have  brought  guilfc  upon  my  conscience  and  have 
yielded  myself  slave  to  divers  lusts  and  passions — O  that  it 
were  with  me  as  in  the  days  of  my  youth !  But  there  are  no 
lilies  that  grow  in  the  field  of  nature;  there  is  no  whiteness, 
no  innocence,  no  purity  retained  from  childhood.  Real  inno- 
;  cence  you  never  possessed,  and  you  have  contracted  dark  guilt 
besides.  But  who  are  those  lilies?  ^  what  are  these  which  are 
arrayed  in  white  robes?  These  are  they  which  have  washed 
their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.' 
Come  to  that  blood,  and  'though  your  sins  be  red  as  crimson 
they  shall  be  as  wool,  though  they  be  like  scarlet  they  shall 
be  whiter  than  snow.'  While  Jesus  is  yet  in  his  garden  seek 
him,  ere  'the  gathering  of  the  lilies'  is  over;  before  him  'the 
desert  rejoices  and  blossoms  like  the  rose,'  and  vile  though  you 
are,  you  will  be  a  fair  flower  in  his  hand,  another  lily  gathered. 

I  am  my  Beloved's  and  my  Beloved  is  mine:  hefeedeth  among 
the  lilies. — The  heart  is  now  assured,  though  the  King's  pres- 
ence is  not  restored.  The  state  of  mind  corresponds  exactly 
to  that  of  the  Apostles  when  they  entered  the  deserted  tomb, 
and,  by  the  sight  of  the  orderly  arrangement  of  the  linen 
clothes  and  the  napkin,  were  assured  of  the  resurrection  of  Je- 
sus. 'Simon  Peter  went  into  the  sepulchre  and  seeth  the  linen 
clothes,  and  the  napkin  wrapped  together  in  a  place  by  itself 
— then  went  in  also  the  other  disciple,  and  he  saw  and  be- 
lieved.' They  had  not  yet  found  the  Beloved,  but  they  were 
assured  now  that  he  Avas  not  lost  to  them ;  '  they  saw  and  be- 
lieved,' and  could  comfort  themselves  with  the  words — 'I  am 
my  Beloved's,  and  my  Beloved  is  mine!'  He  is  feeding  now 
among  the  lilies,  he  is  returning  to  his  flock  on  earth ;  for  the 
angel  had  assured  the  holy  women  at  the  tomb  that  Jesus  had 
gone  before  them  into  Galilee,  and  there  they  should  see  him 
— '  feeding  his  flock  like  a  shepherd.' 

'  I  am  for  my  Beloved  and  my  beloved  is  for  me.'  In  the 
second  song  the  order  is  reversed — '  my  Beloved  is  for  me  and 
I  am  for  him';  for  Christ  had  then  called  her  to  come  forth 
as  a  '  dove  out  of  the  clefts  of  the  rock,'  and,  by  the  very  call, 
assured  her  that  He  was  for  her.  To  that  call  she  responded; 
resting  on  it,  she  said,  'My  Beloved  is  mine';  and,  proceeding 


374  THE    BEIDEGROOM's   brief   return.       chap.  VI.  3. 

to  affix  her  own  seal  to  the  covenant,  she  added  'and  I  am  his/ 
Now  also  it  has  been  Christ  first,  as  it  ever  is — 'the  voice  of 
my  Beloved  that  knocketh ;'  but  a  long  dark  interval  has  en- 
sued during  which  she  has  called,  and  he  has  given  no  answer, 
and  therefore  she  dares  not  say  in  the  first  instance  'My  Be- 
loved is  mine  and  for  me.'  But  now  she  begins  to  have 
quickened  hope  and  faith,  as  well  as  intense  desire.  Christ 
declares  'I  love  them  that  love  me/  she  knows,  and  cannot 
deny,  the  existence  of  this  love  in  her  heart  toward  him;  nor 
can  she  longer  refrain  from  the  conclusion  that  it  must  be  mu- 
tual and  is  reciprocated — 'I  am  for  my  Beloved  and  my  Be- 
loved is  for  me — I  am  my  Beloved's  and  my  Beloved  is  mine !' 
She  is  so  for  him  as  to  be  his,  for  him,  unto  him,  his  own; 
and  he  is  so  for  her  as  to  be  hers,  for  her,  unto  her,  her  own. 
Having  considered  this  mutual  possession  already,  we  shall 
not  enter  on  it  again,  but  only  remark,  that  this  is  the  sense 
of  union  renewed,  after  being  lost  or  interrupted.  The  Bride 
could  declare  that  her  soul  loved  the  Anointed  King  even  to 
sickness  and  fainting;  but  feared  to  assert  till  now  that  her 
Beloved  was  hers.  Actual  fellowship  is  not  yet  renewed,  but 
sense  of  union  is  restored,  which  is  the  last  step  toward  res- 
toration of  communion.  It  is  good  indeed  for  the  seeking  and 
sorrowing  heart  to  strengthen  itself  thus — '  I  am  my  Beloved's 
and  my  Beloved  is  mine.' 

E'en  like  two  little  bank-dividing  brooks, 

That  wash  the  pebbles  with  their  wandering  streams, 

And,  having  ranged  and  searched  a  thousand  nooks, 
Meet  both  at  length  in  silver-breasted  Thames, 

Where  in  a  greater  current  they  conjoin: 

So  I  my  best  Beloved's  am ;  so  he  is  mine. 

E'en  so  we  met;  and  after  long  pursuit, 

E'en  so  we  joined,  we  both  became  entire ; 
Our  firm  united  souls  did  more  than  twine; 
So  I  my  best  Beloved's  am ;  so  he  is  mine. 

If  all  those  glittering  monarchs,  that  command 

The  servile  quarters  of  this  earthly  ball, 
Should  tender,  in  exchange,  their  shares  of  land, 

I  would  not  change  my  fortunes  for  them  all: 
Their  wealth  is  but  a  counter  to  my  coin ; 
The  world's  but  theirs,  but  my  Beloved's  mine. 


CHAP.  VI.  4.         niS   LAST   PORTRAIT   OF   THE   BRIDE.  375 

Nor  time,  nor  place,  nor  chance,  nor  death  can  bow 

My  least  desires  unto  the  least  remove; 
He's  firmly  mine  by  oath ;  I  his  by  vow  ; 

He's  mine  by  faith ;  and  I  am  his  by  love ; 
He's  mine  by  water;  I  am  his  by  wine; 
Thus  I  my  best  Beloved's  am;  thus  he  is  mine. —  Quarks. 

THE  king's  last  PORTRAIT  OF  THE  BRIDE. 

To  the  mourning  yet  now  reassured  Church  Christ  Jesus 
suddenly  appears,  saying,  'All  hail'!  and  he  sends  them  fortli 
united  like  Jerusalem,  and  as  a  well-ordered  army  with  ban- 
ners, giving  them  power  to  cast  out  devils  and  overcome  the 
hosts  of  darkness.  At  the  same  time,  he  preserves  a  greater 
distance  and  majesty  than  before;  he  says  to  them,  'touch  me 
not!'  and  when  the  eyes  of  the  disciples  are  opened  to  know 
him,  'he  vanishes  instantly  from  their  sight' — or,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Song,  he  tells  them  'turn  away  thine  eyes  from 
me!'  In  this  passage  also,  the  King  rehearses  his  former 
words  to  the  Bride  ;  and  Jesus  says  to  his  disciples,  'These  are 
the  words  which  I  spake  unto  you  while  I  was  yet  with  you.' 
In  both  cases  the  Bridegroom  is  no  longer  'with'  his  Bride, 
as  he  had  been  before;  but  in  a  passing  though  glorious  inter- 
view. He  has  in  neither  case  returned  for  the  marriage,  but 
with  the  assurance  that  he  will  remember  till  the  great  day 
that  pledge  of  his  espousals,  which  he  had  commanded  them 
to  preserve  till  he  should  come  again  for  the  marriage. 

Thou  art  beautiful^  0  my  love,  as  Tirzah. — These  words  re- 
fer more  naturally  to  the  Church  than  to  the  single  believing 
soul ;  in  their  fullness  they  must  be  so  applied,  and  then  to  in- 
dividuals as  partaking  of  the  beauty  and  power  of  the  Church. 
It  is  the  first  response  of  the  great  Bridegroom  to  the  long,  in- 
tense, sorrowful,  and  patient  search  for  his  presence,  during 
which  he  has  more  than  forgot  all  his  displeasure.  Tirzah  was 
the  royal  city  of  one  of  the  ancient  kings  of  Canaan,  and  after- 
wards for  a  time  of  the  kings  of  Israel.  The  word  signifies 
pleasant,  and  the  situation  of  the  city,  as  well  as  the  town  itself, 
was  probably  remarkable  for  beauty — 'Thou  art  pleasant,  O 
my  love,  even  as  lovelynesse  itself  (Old  Bible).  The  Bride 
is  afterwards  compared  to  'the  morning,'  and  here  also  the 


376  THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,      chap.  VI.  4. 

image  may  refer  to  the  city  and  the  surrounding  scene  as  be- 
held in  the  sun's  dawning  rays.  It  has  been  dark  and  soli- 
tary midnight;  with  break  of  day  the  Bridegroom  of  the 
Church  suddenly  meets  the  longing  soul,  and  his  first  con- 
gratulation is,  'Thou  art  beautiful,  O  my  love,  as  Tirzah!' 
The  same  Bridegroom  says  elsewhere  to  the  same  Bride,  in 
terms  not  widely  different,  'Ye  are  a  city  set  upon  a  hill,' — 
for  such  a  city  Tirzah  appears  to  have  been.  Let  us  remem- 
ber the  inference,  that  we  must  do  nothing  either  to  deface  or 
to  conceal  the  comeliness  of  an  object  at  once  so  beautiful  and 
so  conspicuous;  'beautiful  as  Tirzah,' but  on  account  of  its 
beauty  set  upon  a  hill  and  incapable  of  being  hid.  Mar  not 
that  beauty,  because  it  is  not  thine  but  thy  Lord's,  for  thou 
hast  just  confessed  that  thou  art  His.  Deface  it  not,  for  it  is 
not  thine  own;  conceal  it  not,  for  it  is  not  thine  own;  it  is 
both  his  and  the  reflection  of  his  comeliness,  and  wilt  thou 
hide  from  men  the  beauty  of  him  who  is  fairer  than  the  sons 
of  men?  '  Beautiful  as  Tirzah' — how  gracious  the  address  to 
the  slothful,  sorrowing,  smitten  Bride!  but  'whom,  he  loveth 
he  loveth  unto  the  end,'  though  we  change,  He  is  'the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.' 

Comely  as  Jerusalem. — Jerusalem,  with  its  lofty  walls — Je- 
rusalem, with  its  noble  palaces — Jerusalem,  the  emblem  of 
brotherhood,  a  'city  compactly  built  together' — Jerusalem, 
with  the  divine  tabernacle  soon  to  be  replaced  by  the  temple — 
Jerusalem,  'the  city  of  the  living  God' — Jerusalem,  'the  joy 
of  the  whole  earth.'  The  Bride  is  here  compared  to  Jerusa- 
lem, and  in  vision  the  Apostle  John  gives  the  converse  of 
the  image,  and  compares  the  coming  Jesusalem  to  the  Bride 
— 'I  saw  the  holy  city  New  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from 
God  out  of  heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her 
husband.'  Jerusalem  is  builded  as  a  city  that  is  compact 
together,  and  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  Church  consists  in 
its  union.  '  Behold  how  good  it  is  and  how  pleasant  for 
brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity!'  How  comely  the  sight 
of  a  united  church  built  together  and  growing  up  together 
an  holy  temple  to  the  Lord;  with  'salvation  for  its  walls 
and  bulwarks,'  impregnable  by  all  the  assaults  of  earth  and 
hell,  Comely  with  strength  and  majesty — 'on  this  Rock  I 


CHAP.  VI.  4.         HIS   LAST   PORTRAIT   OF   THE   BRIDE.  377 

will  build  my  church,  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail 
against  it!'  But  equally  privileged  is  each  believer — 'I  have 
made  thee  a  defenced  city,  and  an  iron  pillar,  and  brazen  walls 
against  the  whole  land,  against  the  princes  thereof,  against  the 
priests  thereof,  and  against  the  people  of  the  land — they  shall 
fight  against  thee  but  they  shall  not  prevail  against  thee.'  So 
had  they  fought,  but  they  had  not  prevailed,  against  the  sorrow- 
ing Bride  of  the  King;  the  watchmen  had  smitten  but  they 
had  not  overcome,  and  their  strokes  had  not  even  marred  her 
beauty  ;  for,  after  all  their  wounding,  and  the  more  on  account 
of  it  all,  the  King  declares  her  'comely  as  Jerusalem.'  She 
had  been  reproached  for  his  sake,  and  '  the  Spirit  of  glory  and 
of  God  was  resting  on  her.' 

Terrible  as  an  army  loith  banners. — The  reference  to  a  city  is 
probably  still  pursued,  but  it  is  a  city  full  of  armed  men,  not 
merely  strong  with  inaccessible  ramparts,  but  terrible  by  a 
bannered  host  appearing  on  those  ramparts,  ready  to  go  forth 
asrainst  the  foe.  '  The  Lord  giveth  a  banner  to  them  that  fear 
him,  to  be  displayed  because  of  truth  and  righteousness';  he 
giveth  Himself  for  their  ensign  and  standard,  and  permits  and 
emboldens  them,  to  call  Him  '  Jehovah-Nissi — the  Lord  my 
banner!'  'Beautiful  for  situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth, 
is  Mount  Zion,  the  city  of  the  great  King ;  God  is  known  in 
her  palaces  for  a  refuge;  for  lo,  the  kings  were  assembled,  they 
passed  by  together — they  saw  it  and  lo  they  marvelled — they 
were  troubled  and  hasted  away ;  fear  took  hold  of  them  there !' 
The  connexion  in  the  Song  is  the  same  as  in  the  Psalm ;  David 
sings  of  Mount  Zion  'beautiful  for  situation,'  and  adds  that  'the 
kings  saw  it  and  hasted  away';  Solomon  sings  of  the  Church 
'comely  as  Jerusalem,'  and  adds,  'terrible  as  an  army  with 
banners.'  The  Bride  has  gone  through  a  fiery  trial  in  a  thrice- 
heated  furnace,  but  now  she  has  obtained  the  promise,  '  Kesist 
the  devil  and  he  will  flee!'  Satan  had  tempted  as  the  subtle 
serpent,  and  had  seduced  the  soul  into  carnal  security  and 
spiritual  torpor — '  I  sleep  but  my  heart  waketh,  I  have  put  off 
my  coat,  how  shall  I  put  it  on.'  Through  grace  the  temptation 
is  overcome;  the  poisoned  sleep  is  shaken  off,  and  the  soul 
rises  victorious  over  it.  But  'his  name  is  legion,  for  he  is 
many,'  and  he  comes  next  as  an  enemy,  a  persecutor,  a  re- 


378  THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  4. 

viler,  an  accuser,  seeking  to  drive  the  soul  from  its  hope;  the 
powers  of  darkness  are  wrestled  with  and  overcome,  and  in  the 
conflict  with  fear,  with  reproach,  with  suffering,  faith  is  vic- 
torious. A  third  temptation  remains  in  the  trial  of  patience, 
often  the  severest  of  all — in  quiet  waiting  till  the  Lord  shall 
return ;  and  never  is  Satan  more  busy,  and  seldom  more  suc- 
cessful, than  when  Hhe  Lord  delayeth  his  coming.'  When 
the  heart  is  tempted  to  say,  'this  evil  is  of  the  Lord,'  he  whis- 
pers 'wherefore  should  I  wait  on  him  any  longer?'  But  in 
the  end  Christ  always  gives  to  him  that  overcometh ;  and  dur- 
ing the  conflict  he  announces  the  animating  watchword  of 
battle — '  Resist  the  devil  and  he  will  flee  from  you !'  Yet  that 
veteran  warrior  seldom  flees  at  the  first  shock  of  resistance,  for 
he  knows  that  many  bend  their  bow  against  him  without  a 
second  arrow  in  their  quiver.  The  great  Captain  of  our  sal- 
vation resisted  once,  and  Satan,  though  bafiled,  fled  not,  but 
repeated  and  diversified  the  assault ;  he  resisted  a  second  time, 
and  the  assault  was  still  both  renewed  and  varied;  but  when 
he  resisted  the  third  time,  Satan  instantly  fled,  and  dejiarted 
from  him  altogether  '  for  a  season.'  So  the  Bride  has  patiently 
resisted  his  successive  assaults,  and,  being  victorious,  she  is  not 
only  invincible  like  Jerusalem,  but  '  terrible  like  an  army  with 
banners.'  In  wrestling  with  unseen  principalities,  thou  must 
'take  unto  thee  the  whole  armour  of  God,'  and  thou  hast  no- 
bly done  it;  thou  hast  'stood  in  the  evil  day  against  the  wiles 
of  the  devil';  thou  hast  risen  from  sleep,  and  girded  thy  loins 
about  with  truth,  and  gone  forth  after  thy  Lord  'faint  yet  pur- 
suing,' 'seeking'  and  not  finding;  thou  hast  'taken  the  shield 
of  faith  and  quenched  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked';  thou  hast 
'taken  for  a  helmet  the  hope  of  salvation,'  saying  'he  is  gone 
down  to  his  garden  and  is  gathering  lilies;'  thou  hast  over- 
come the  adverse  hosts  of  darkness;  they  have  seen  thee  'terri- 
ble like  an  army  with  banners,'  'fear  has  taken  hold  on  thera, 
and  they  have  hasted  away.'  Sing  therefore  now  unto  thy 
Lord — 'Blessed  be  the  Lord  my  strength,  who  teacheth  my 
hands  to  war  and  my  fingers  to  fight;  thou  hast  enlarged  my 
steps  under  me,  that  my  feet  did  not  slip;  thou  hast  given  me 
the  shield  of  thy  salvation ;  thou  hast  subdued  under  me  those 


CHAP.  VI.  5.         HIS   LAST   PORTRAIT   OF   THE   BRIDE.  379 

that  rose  up  against  me ;  therefore  will  I  give  thanks  unto  thee, 
O  Lord,  and  sing  praises  unto  thy  name.' 

Oh,  I  have  seen  the  day, 

When  with  a  single  word, 
God  helping  me  to  say, 

'My  trust  is  in  the  Lord;' 
JNIy  soul  has  quelled  a  thousand  foes, 
Fearless  of  all  that  could  oppose. —  Cowper. 

Turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me,  for  they  have  overcome  me. — 
This  is  the  sequel  to  the  Bride  being  '  terrible  as  an  army  with 
banners/  so  as  to  prevail  not  merely  over  the  devil  and  the 
flesh,  but  over  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant  himself.  'To  him 
that  overcometh  will  I  give/  w^as  the  inscription  on  his  ban- 
ner, and  it  called  for  victory  not  merely  over  the  hostile  ranks 
of  darkness,  but  also  over  the  befriending  Prince  of  Peace; 
for  'the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  with  its  king  and  all  its  treasures, 
'suifereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force.'  The 
image  of  the  bannered  host  is  the  same  as  the  '  company  of 
horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots  /  and  its  application  is  not  materi- 
ally different,  for  in  both  cases  it  is  the  earnestly  seeking  soul 
overtaking  and  overcoming  the  Lord  of  glory;  but  here,  the 
siege  of  the  kingdom  is  more  protracted,  and  the  conquest  more 
fully  described.  Yet  it  is  the  victory  of  a  lowly  suitor,  it  is 
'thine  eyes  have  overcome';  for  in  that  night  of  sorrow  those 
•'eyes  have  been  ever  toward  the  Lord.'  'As  the  eyes  of  a 
handmaid  toward  her  mistress,  so  have  they  waited  on  Him 
till  he  should  have  mercy,'  and  '  more  than  they  that  watch 
for  the  morning'  have  they  looked  for  the  light  of  the  King's 
countenance.  More  surely  also  than  the  morning  sun  rises  at 
length  to  the  midnight  watcher,  has  that  Sun  of  righteousness 
dawned  on  the  benighted  soul.  And  now,  Jesus  in  infinite 
condescension  speaks  not  as  if  supplicated  and  refusing,  but 
rather  as  if  asking  to  be  released  from  the  power  of  the  pe- 
titioner; employing  words  in  their  sense  exactly  the  same  as 
those  he  uttered  to  the  wrestling  and  victorious  Jacob,  'Let 
me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh ! — turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me, 
for  they  have  overcome  me ! — O  woman  great  is  thy  faith,  be 
it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt!' 


380       THE  BEIDEGROOM's  brief  return.         chap.  VI.  5-7. 

Virgin  follower  of  the  Lamb !  man  of  God  exercised  unto 
godliness !  such  words,  though  rare  and  most  precious  to  your 
soul,  are  not  the  language  of  an  unknown  tongue.  The  day- 
has  been  when,  in  your  deep  repentance,  words  not  unlike 
these  were  in  your  lips  toward  your  God.  One  eye  alone  in  the 
universe  you  could  not  meet,  the  eye  of  Him  whom  you  knew 
best  and  loved  most;  and  to  him  thus  was  your  speech,  'Against 
thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned — hide  thy  face  from  my  sins — 
turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me!'  But  again,  in  the  night  of 
long  distress,  you  looked,  and  asked,  and  sought,  and  knocked ; 
you  looked  till  your  eyes  failed  with  looking  long,  asked  till 
your  throat  was  dried  with  thirst,  sought  till  your  spirit  swoon- 
ed within  you,  knocked  as  if  your  puny  hands  would  break 
the  locked  gates  of  heaven  asunder.  At  length  you  seemed  to 
behold  your  King,  but  as  if  with  a  countenance  half  averted ; 
and  with  an  eye  intently  fixed  on  him  you  stood,  while  your 
lips  cried  'O  turn  to  me  thy  countenance!'  The  Holy  One 
turned  toward  you,  saying  'Mary,'  you  answered  'Rabboni;' 
and  there,  within  the  veil,  face  to  face  and  eye  to  eye,  you  met 
your  Lord.  But  you  had  sought  too  sorrowfully  and  too  long  to 
give  up  your  suit  hastily;  although  at  other  times  Jesus  had 
looked  on  you,  and  you  had  too  quickly  turned  aside,  yet  now 
your  eye  was  '  not  satisfied  with  seeing;'  and,  with  waiting  and 
suppliant  looks,  you  gazed,  till  he  gave  you  all  your  request, 
and  added,  'Turn  away  thine  eyes  from  me,  for  they  have 
overcome  me!'  Lord  Jesus!  thy  name  is  Wonderful ! — won- 
drous also,  and  awful,  is  thy  love! 

Thy  hair  is  as  aJlocJc  of  goats  that  appear  from  Gilead.  Thy 
teeth  are  as  a  flock  of  sheep  which  go  up  from  the  loashing,  where- 
of every  one  beareth  twins,  and  there  is  not  one  barren  among 
them.  As  a  piece  of  pomegranate  are  thy  temples  within  thy 
locks. — This  description  of  the  beauty  of  the  Bride  is  the  same  as 
in  the  fourth  chapter,  but  is  no  vain  repetition  in  such  an  hour; 
for  it  is  anew  betrothal  of  the  soul  by  the  Lord,  after  sin  and 
separation.  Thou  hast  these  commendations  from  tliy  King 
again,  and  never  didst  thou  need  them  more.  'Thine  eyes 
were  once  as  doves'  eyes  within  thy  locks,'  but,  in  the  day  of 
thy  sinful  sleep,  thou  didst  not  'give  all  diligence  to  add  to 


CHAP.  VI.  5-7.      HIS   LAST   PORTRAIT  OF  THE   BRIDE.        381 

thy  faith  virtue,  temperance,  patience,  godliness— fortitude, 
self-control,  endurance,  prayer.'     Lacking  these  things,  thou 
becamest  'blind  (or  blear-eyed)  not  seeing  afar  off;'  and  no 
wonder  that  thou  couldst  not  discover  thy  Beloved,  though  he 
was  not  distant  from  thee.     But  thine  eyeballs  are  cleared 
again;  and  he  saith  'thine  eyes  have  overcome  me !'     Sleep- 
ing in  self-indulgence,  thy  jS'azarite  locks  were  secretly  cut  by 
the  tempter;  thou  saidst  thou  wast  thine  own,  and  the  token 
of  thy  subjection  was  removed;  thou  didst  arise,  with  Samson, 
to 'shake  thyself,'  but  Delilah  never  lulls  the  Nazarite  asleep 
without  removing  his  locks  before  he  awakes;  and  thy  strength 
was  gone,  for  thy  Lord  was  gone.     But  now  thy  locks  have 
grown  anew,  and  thy  hair  is  beautiful  again  'as  a  flock  of 
goats  from  mount  Gilead.'     When  the  watchmen  smote  and 
wounded  thee,  the  white  teeth  of  thy  precious  faith   'were 
broken  as  with  gravel-stones';  but  they  are  restored  again  'as  a 
flock  of  sheep  coming  up  newly  washed  from  the  river,  every 
one  with  twins  and  none  bereaved  among  them.'    Thy  modesty 
and  shamefacedness  had  left  thee,  and  had  been  exchanged  for 
pride  and  self-complacency  in  that  hour  when  thou  saidst  'I 
have  put  off  my  coat,  how  shall  I  put  it  on'— thinking  thy- 
self some  great  one  and  counting  lightly  of  thy  Lord*^  and, 
though  without  justice,  yet  not  without  occasion,  the  midnight 
watchmen,  taking  oflFthy  veil,  reproached  thee  as  if  'thy  brow 
was  brass.'     But  now,  thy  Lord  acknowledges  that  'thy  tem- 
ples are  as  a  piece  of  pomegranate  within  thy  locks.'     The 
words  are  the  same  as  before,  yet  not  the  same  in  their  utter- 
ance; the  eyes  are  the  same,  yet  not  the  same,  for  they  had 
become  dim  and  are  cleared  again  ;  the  locks  the  same,  yet  not 
the  same,  for  they  were  cut  and  have  grown  again;  the  teeth 
the  same,  yet  not  the  same,  for  they  were  broken  and  are  re- 
newed again ;  and  the  blushing  temples  the  same,  yet  not  the 
same,  for  they  had  grown  hard  and  uncomely,  but  'thy  flesh 
is  fresher  than  a  child's'  again.      Blessed  rehearsal !— thou 
wouldst  not  be  satisfied  with  less,  and  what  more  canst  thou 
desire?     Thy  God  is  reconciled  again,  he  hath  blotted  out 
thine  iniquity  and  not  remembered  thy  sin,  he  hath  'washed 
thy  feet  anew'  in  token  of  having  part  with  him,  he  hath 


382        THE  beidegeoom's  brief  eeturt^".     chap.  VI.  8, 9. 

'presented  thee  again  to  himself  without  spot  or  wrinkle  or 
any  such  thing.' 

There  are  threescore  queens,  and  fourscore  concubines  [or  secon- 
dary ivives — Old  Bible]  and  virgins  loithout  number.  My  dove, 
my  undejiled  is  but  one. — This  portion  of  the  parable  appears 
to  refer  to  the  glittering  crowd  of  witnesses  assembled  at  the 
marriage  or  espousal  of  the  Messiah's  Bride ;  and  the  repre- 
sentation is,  in  substance,  the  same  as  in  the  forty-fifth  Psalm, 
though  here  the  assembly  is  more  numerous  and  imposing.  In 
the  Psalm  there  is  only  one  queen  among  the  spectators,  the 
daughter  or  the  queen  of  Tyre,  and  here  there  are  threescore 
queens;  in  the  Psalm  there  are  kings'  daughters  or  princesses, 
and  here  there  are  fourscore  concubines,  kings'  wives  of  secon- 
dary rank,  or  princesses;  and  for  the  honourable  women  in 
the  Psalm,  there  are  here  virgins  without  number.  These,  as 
assembled  witnesses,  look  on  the  Church,  the  Bride  of  the 
Lamb;  and  who  are  these  queens  and  princesses  and  daugh- 
ters? There  is,  we  conceive,  an  allusion,  which  we  shall  pre- 
sently consider,  to  the  multitude  of  wives  of  earthly  monarchs 
in  contrast  to  the  one  Bride  of  Messiah ;  but  the  first  reference 
certainly  is  to  the  many  rulers  of  the  world,  whether  civil  or 
religious,  in  contrast  to  the  single  Bride  of  the  great  King  (p. 
60.)  In  such  an  allegory,  where  prophets  and  apostles  are  rep- 
resented as  virgins  constituting  the  spouse,  it  is  impossible  to 
represent  kings  and  rulers  and  chief  priests  otherwise  than 
under  such  images  as  queens,  and  concubines,  and  daughters. 
There  is  no  other  mode  of  describing  them  without  destroying 
the  allegory.  There  are  few  topics  to  which  Christ  more  fre- 
quently alludes  in  addressing  his  disciples,  than  the  lordship 
exercised  by  the  kings,  and  rulers,  and  great  ones  of  the  earth; 
and  he  sets  in  contrast,  not  only  the  humility  that  character- 
izes his  followers,  but  the  unity.  'It  shall  not  be  so  among 
you,  for  all  ye  are  brethren,'  is  oneness  as  well  as  lowliness; 
and  the  unity  is  the  foundation  of  the  lowliness.  The  world 
consists  of  many,  and  one  man  gains  power  and  exercises  lord- 
ship over  other  men  ;  but  the  Church  is  one — '  that  they  all 
may  be  one' — and  therefore  the  relation  is  that  of  love  one  to 
another,  and  not  of  lordship.     This  distinguishing  truth  is  set 


CHAP.  VI.  S,  9.      HIS   LAST   PORTRAIT   OF   THE   BRIDE.        383 

forth  iu  perpetual  remembrance  by  the  Lord's  Supper — 'We 
being  many  are  one  bread  and  one  body,  for  we  are  all  par- 
takers of  that  one  bread.' 

The  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  true  Solomon,  the  long-expected 
King,  comes  not  surrounded  with  the  earthly  pomp  of  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  Jew  or  Gentile;  and  he  comes  restoring 
the  marriage  covenant  to  its  original  oneness  and  simplicity. 
They  had  contravened  both  the  primitive  institution,  and  the 
special  command  to  Israel's  kings  not  to  multiply  wives,  yet 
vrerc  so  permitted  on  account  of  the  hardness  of  their  hearts. 
But  the  Second  Adam  brings  men  back  to  the  simplicity  of 
the  first,  and  announces  again  that  'a  man  shall  leave  father 
and  mother  and  cleave  to  his  wife,  and  they  twain  shall  be 
one' — not  many  gathered  together,  but  two  united  in  one. 
Restoring  the  early  institution,  and  bestowing  on  it  tlie  honor 
of  the  first  display  of  his  glory,  he  seems  to  announce  that,  in 
contradistinction  to  kings  and  tlieir  courts,  the  Bride  of  the 
Messiah  is  One.  The  promised  King  appears  in  his  glory  at  a 
marriage  feast,  typical  of  his  own  marriage;  but  his  Bride  is 
to  be  one  and  undivided,  not  many  as  in  the  courts  of  earthly 
kings. 

The  numbers  of  threescore'  and  'fourscore'  appear  to  be 
arbitrary,  and  without  any  more  special  ground  than  in  the 
expressions  '  he  shall  be  with  thee  in  six  troubles,  and  in  seven 
no  evil  shall  come  nigh  thee;'  or,  in  Solomon's  own  words, 
'give  a  portion  to  seven  and  also  to  eight,  for  thou  knowest 
not  what  evil  shall  be  on  the  earth.'  There  are,  and  let  there 
be  in  earthly  courts,  'threescore  queens,  and  fourscore  concu- 
bines, and  virgins  without  number;  yet  my  love,  my  unde- 
filed  is  but  one' — not  one  of  these,  for  they  look  upon  aud  praise 
her — not  all  these  combined,  but  a  single  one,  an  only  one,  in 
contrast  to  their  multitude.  Now,  rt  is  true  that  tho  Bride  of 
the  Lamb  consists  of  an  exceeding  great  multitude  which  no 
man  can  number.  His  virgin  followers  are  'a  hundred  and 
forty-four  thousand,'  with  their  Father's  name  written  in 
tlieir  forehead;  in  whose  name  the  Bride  in  this  Song  entreats, 
'Draw  me,  we  will  run  after  thee,'  following  him  whitherso- 
ever he  goeth.     But  in  this  holy  company  there  is  the  most 


384         THE  bridegeoom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  8, 9. 

perfect  unity,  and  they  constitute  together  only  one  'King's 
daughter  all  glorious  within/  one  'chaste  virgin  espoused  to 
Christ/  one  '  Bride  whom  the  Bridegroom  hath/  one  '  wife  of 
the  Lamb  who  has  made  herself  ready'  for  the  marriage 
supper,  one  'queen  standing  at  his  right  hand  in  gold  of 
Ophir.' 

Each  redeemed  soul  says,  indeed,  '  he  loved  me,'  as  truly  as 
the  whole  assembly  sing  '  to  Him  that  loved  us  /  each  is  '  be- 
trothed in  loving-kindness '  and  '  married  to  him  that  is  risen 
from  the  dead,'  as  if  there  were  no  other  besides;  each  believer, 
being  'joined  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit  with  him,'  so  that  they 
two  are  one  spirit.  Wondrous,  mysterious  truth! — it  is  no 
divided  heart  that  the  Lord  Jesus  gives  to  thee,  thou  ransomed 
soul!  for  he  loved  thee  and  gave  himself  for  thee,  himself  ex- 
pressly for  thee — not  part  of  himself  for  thee  and  part  for  an- 
other, but  himself,  his  life,  his  all  for  thee !  He  loved  thee — 
not  with  a  measured  and  restricted  love,  but  with  a  'love 
stronger  than  death,  which  many  waters  could  not  quench'; 
and  he  glories  in  thee  saying  'my  love,  my  undefiled  is  but 
one.'  But  as  he  gives,  so  he  requires  an  undivided  love,  and 
demands  'give  me  thine  heart.'  See  then  that  your  heart  be 
not  double — that  you  offer  not  part  to  him,  and  reserve  part 
for  another.  Reserve  not  part  for  yourself,  for  of  his  'none 
livetli  to  himself,'  but  every  one  'denies  himself,'  disowns  him- 
self; reserve  not  part  for  father  and  mother,  and  brother  and 
sister;  for  except  you  'forget  your  father's  house,'  and  hate  it 
in  comparison  of  him,  he  will  not  have  you,  nor  'desire  your 
beauty;'  reserve  not  part  for  the  world,  for  then  he  calls  you 
an  'adulteress,'  and  being  'a  friend  of  tlie  world  you  are  the 
enemy  of  God.'  'My  love,  my  undefiled  is  but  one!' — single, 
simple,  sincere,  faithful.  Lord!  each  of  us  would  pray  with 
the  man  of  thine  own  choice,  'Unite  my  heart  to  fear  thy 
name !' — make  this  double  heart  single,  this  divided  heart  one 
— a  unity  within  itself,  having  all  its  desires  united  in  thee — 
a  unit  of  love  and  devotion  which  shall  admit  of  no  division — 
say  thou  of  me  'my  dove  is  but  one!' 

But  it  is  remarkable,  that  alike  in  the  Old  Testament  and 


CHAP.  VI.  8,  9.      HIS   LAST   PORTRAIT   OF   THE   BRIDE.        385 

in  the  New,  when  the  Church  collective  is  described,  composed 
of  innumerable  betrothed  ones,  it  is  invariably  represented  as 
a  single  bride  or  wife;  quite  as  much  as  if  it  were  but  a  single 
soul,  and  never  once  otherwise.  The  persons  referred  to  are 
many,  and  are  addressed  as  many,  '  Turn,  ye  backsliding  chil- 
dren, for  I  am  married  unto  you.'  But  when  the  marriage 
relation  is  specified,  the  expression  is  always  singular,  '  I  have 
called  thee  as  a  wife  of  youth  when  thou  wast  refused' — never 
wives;  'as  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over  the  bride,  so  shall 
thy  God  rejoice  over  thee' — never  brides.  So,  in  the  New 
Testament,  it  is,  Hhe  Spirit  and  the  bride  say  Come' — it  is, 
'his  wife  hath  made  herself  ready' — it  is,  'the  bride  the  Lamb's 
wife.'  AYhen  the  plural  number  has  been  used,  the  change  is 
immediate  and  marked — 'husbands,  love  your  wives,  even  as 
Christ  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself  for  it,'  or  for  her; 
and  even  the  term  virgin  is  singular,  the  moment  it  is  connected 
with  espousal.  The  ten  lamp-bearing  virgins  are  the  bride  by 
profession,  and  the  five  oil-bearers  are  the  true  bride  of  Christ, 
for  there  is  no  other  bride  save  themselves  in  the  parable ;  and 
again,  'a  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand  spotless  virgins' 
constitute  the  Lamb's  bride.  But  as  soon  as  the  marriage 
covenant  is  expressed,  even  this  term  follows  the  same  rule  as 
the  wife  and  the  bride,  and  becomes  singular.  Addressing 
many  believers,  the  apostle  Paul  says,  'I  am  jealous  over  you 
with  godly  jealousy,  for  I  have  espoused  you  to  one  husband 
that  I  may  present  you  as  a  chaste  virgin  to  Christ.'  The 
virgin  bride  is  one,  even  as  the  divine  husband  is  one — '  there 
are  threescore  queens  and  fourscore  concubines,  but  my  dove, 
my  undefiled,  is  one.' 

The  Church  is  'one  bread  and  one  body,'  and  can  no  more 
be  divided  into  many,  than  the  head  and  hands  and  feet  of  one 
can  be  severed,  and  made  to  stand  for  so  many  several  persons. 
The  attempt  is  death,  and  each  divided  part,  set  up  by  itself, 
is  no  longer  a  living  member  joined  to  the  head,  but  a  limb 
cut  off  and  dead.  The  soul,  or  the  church,  that  says  'I  sit  as 
a  queen,'  I  am  the  bride, — by  the  very  act,  disjoins  itself  from 
the  living  body,  and,  in  refusing  to  be  a  part,  ceases  to  belong 


386  THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  9. 

to  the  one  spouse  of  Christ.  'I  pray/  said  Jesus,  'that  they 
all  may  be  one,  as  thou  Father  art  in  me  and  I  in  thee,  that 
they  also  may  be  one  in  us!' 

She  is  the  only  one  of  her  mother,  the  choice  one  of  her  that  bare 
her — or  'deare  unto  her  that  bare  her'  (Old  Bible).  She  is 
not  one  of  several  because  the  choice  one  of  her  mother,  even 
as  the  fact  of  Jesus  being  the  Beloved  Son  does  not  set  aside 
his  being  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father ;  nor  is  she  one  of 
several  because  she  has  'a  little  sister,'  for  that  sister  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  same  body  with  herself,  and  denotes  those  'other 
sheep'  whom  Jesus  said  he  must  bring,  not  to  make  two 
churches,  but  so  that  'there  shall  be  one  fold,  one  shepherd,' 
one  bride,  one  Bridegroom.  'Jerusalem  which  is  above,  which 
is  free,  is  the  mother  of  us  all ' — the  mother  of  all  the  members 
of  the  Church,  therefore  the  mother  of  the  Church  considered 
as  composed  of  these  members ;  and  the  contrast  to  the  free 
Jerusalem  is  'Mount  Sinai  which  answereth  to  Jerusalem  which 
now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with  her  children.'  This  mother 
may  therefore  be  regarded  as  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  the  king- 
dom of  grace  within  which  all  believers  are  born.  The  Bride, 
the  Lamb's  wife,  is  'the  choice  one,  the  only  one'  of  this  mother^ 
for  she  has  borne  no  other  daughter  besides.  Nor  is  the  dis- 
tinction a  mean  one  for  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb,  because  it  can- 
not equally  be  affirmed  of  other  dispensations  and  other  cove- 
nants. The  covenant  of  works,  in  one  or  other  of  its  forms, 
has  various  children.  As  formed  with  our  father  Adam,  its 
children  are  lost  and  dead,  and  it  has  none  living.  As  formed 
with  the  sons  of  heaven,  it  has  principalities  and  powers  and 
thrones  and  dominions,  it  has  angel  and  archangel,  cherubim 
and  seraphim,  for  its  living  offspring ;  but  it  has  also  Satan, 
Beelzebub,  Mammon,  and  their  legions,  for  its  children  lost 
and  dead.  But  this  covenant  and  kingdom  of  grace,  this  'Je- 
rusalem which  is  free,'  has  no  lost  child,  no  dead  child,  no 
multitude  of  children  like  individual  angels,  no  other  child. 
It  never  had  nor  will  have  another  save  the  Bride,  the  wife 
of  the  Lamb,  'the  only  one  of  her  mother,  the  choice  one  of 
her  that  bare  her.'  How  blessed  are  those  who  are  partakers 
of  this  new  covenant,  children  of  the  promise,  members  of  the 


CHAP.  VI.  9.      THE  bride's  PORTRAIT  BY  THE  QUEENS.      387 

one  true  Church  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  the  one  Bride  of  the 
Lamb — having  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism! 

There  may  be  dignities,  a  lofty  few, 
Gifted  and  talented,  and  they  of  earth 
Will  bow  before  them,  and  as  queens  they  shine; 
There  may  be  noted  ones  of  less  degree, 
Attractive,  amiable,  of  blameless  life. 
But,  saith  the  Lord,  my  dove,  my  undefiled 
Stands  single  and  supreme  o'er  all  of  these; 
The  queens,  the  concubines,  the  virgins  here 
May  vie  with  her  pretensions.     But  to  stand 
Unswerving  in  whole-heartedness  for  Christ, 
And  in  herself  a  unity — girt  round 
With  the  bright  sterling  zone  of  charity. 
Even  the  worldling  would  not  dare  contemn — 
Thousands  would  look  and  bless. — Meditations. 

THE  bride's  POBTRAIT   BY  THE  QUEENS. 

The  daughters  saw  her  and  blessed  her;  yea,  the  queens  and 
the  concubines,  and  they  praised  her. — They  blessed  her,  or 
'saide  she  was  blessed'  (Old  Bible);  and  'who  is  this  that 
looketh  forth?'  in  the  following  verse,  is  the  expression  of 
their  admiration;  and  is  connected  by  some  of  our  old  trans- 
lators and  many  of  the  moderns — 'they  praised  her,  saying, 
who  is  this?'  (Fenner).  This  admiration  of  the  queens,  and 
concubines,  and  honourable  women,  is  not  greatly  different 
from  the  honour  with  which  Jesus  is  received,  when  it  is  writ- 
teU' — 'As  many  were  astonished  at  thee;  his  image  was  so 
marred  more  than  any  man,  and  his  form  more  than  the  sons 
of  men — so  shall  he  sprinkle  many  nations;  the  kings  shall 
shut  their  mouths  at  him,  for  that  which  had  not  been  told 
them  shall  they  see,  and  that  which  they  had  not  heard  shall 
they  consider'  (Isa.  lii).  Jesus  is  Jehovah's  king,  and  the  kings 
of  the  earth,  first  stumbled  at  his  humiliation,  are  next  aston- 
ished at  his  glory.  The  Church,  after  a  night  of  sorrow  and 
affliction,  comes  forth  as  'the  queen  in  gold  of  Ophir;'  and  as 
those  who  express  their  wonder  at  the  King  Messiah  are  the 
kings  of  the  earth,  so  those  who  marvel  at  the  Bride  are  repre- 
sented as  queens  and  concubines  and  maidens  of  their  courts — 
y 


388  THE    BHIDEGROOM's    brief   return.       chap.  VI.  9. 

the  great  and  honourable  ones  of  the  earth.  When  the  Bride, 
in  the  person  of  John  the  Baptist,  went  forth  to  meet  the  com- 
ing Bridegroom,  the  queens  and  the  concubines,  Herod  and 
Herodias  and  lier  daughter,  saw  her  and  knew  that  she  was 
blessed;  and,  while  they  hated  her,  they  trembled  before  her 
'as  an  army  with  banners.'  They  saw  her  and  wondered  again, 
when  Drusilla  and  Bernice  beheld  Felix  and  Agrippa,  their 
lords,  '  trembling'  before  the  prisoner  Paul  as  if  he  were  an 
army  with  banners,  and  'almost  persuaded'  to  yield  themselves 
captives  to  the  cross.  The  queens  and  the  concubines — the 
leaders  of  the  earthly  Jerusalem,  rulers  and  elders  and  scribes, 
and  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  and  John  and  Alexander — saw  and 
'marvelled'  at  Peter  and  John;  they  saw  them  pure,  brilliant, 
terrible,  they  asked  'who  is  this? — whence  have  these  men 
learning? — and  they  took  knowledge  of  them  that  they  had 
been  with  Jesus,'  that  it  was  the  Bride,  the  Lamb's  wife.  They 
beheld  that  Bride  again  in  the  person  of  Stephen,  '  when  they 
could  not  resist  the  spirit  and  the  wisdom  with  which  he  spake,' 
and  when  'looking  steadfastly  on  him  they  saw  his  face  as  it 
had  been  the  face  of  an  angel — fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the 
sun,  and  terrible  as  an  army  with  banners.' 

A  wonder,  a  mystery,  and  a  terror  is  this  Spouse  of  Christ 
to  all  the  queens  and  princesses  of  earth,  yet  also,  in  the  day 
of  their  visitation,  a  praise  and  a  blessing.  '  Kings  shall  bring 
presents  unto  thee — every  one  shall  submit  himself  with  pieces 
of  silver.'  Often  'afflicted  and  not  comforted,'  thou  Bride  of 
Jesus !  going  forth  in  the  midnight  to  seek  him,  and  inquiring 
'saw  ye  him  whom  my  soul  loveth?'  thou  hast  been  reproached 
and  wounded  for  thy  pains ;  yet  '  the  Gentiles  shall  see  thy 
righteousness,  and  all  kings  thy  glory' — the  nations,  the  king- 
doms, the  cities  shall  see,  shall  bless,  'shall  praise  thee,  because 
of  the  Lord  thy  God  when  he  shall  have  glorified  thee.'  But 
take  heed  that  thy  heart  waver  not;  seek  that  thy  Lord  may 
still  say  of  thee  'my  dove,  my  undefiled,  is  but  one;'  envy 
not,  and  imitate  not  the  queens  and  princesses  of  earth,  of 
rank,  of  wealth,  of  intellect,  of  taste — but,  as  one  Bride,  be 
thou  true  to  thy  one  Lord,  and  in  the  end  they  will  see,  they 
will  bless,  and  they  will  praise  thee. 


CHAP.  YI.  10.     THE  bride's  PORTRAIT  BY  THE  QUEEXS.     389 

It  is  intensely  interesting  to  observe  not  only  the  intrinsic 
beauty  of  the  images  throughout  the  Song,  but  their  admira- 
ble fitness  in  their  relative  positions.  There  is  much  resem- 
blance in  general  feature  between  the  descriptions  of  the  Bride 
in  the  fourth  and  in  the  tenth  verses ;  and  though  both  are 
brief,  they  are  the  most  magnificent  portraits  that  are  given 
of  her  throughout  the  book.  But  mark  the  distinction  between 
them — the  first  portrays  her  by  the  noblest  objects  in  earth — 
Tirzah,  Jerusalem,  a  bannered  army;  the  second  portrays  her 
by  the  noblest  objects  in  heaven— the  morning,  the  moon,  the 
sun,  and  the  host  of  stars.  And  why  ?  because  the  first  is  by 
the  King  who  is  always  superior  to  the  Bride,  who  always 
speaks  as  one  'come  from  God  and  going  to  God,  as  the  Son 
of  Man  which  is  in  heaven,'  and  from  his  position  looks  down, 
and  compares  the  Church  to  the  highest  objects  of  earth.  The 
second  is  by  the  queens  of  earth,  by  the  thrones  and  domin- 
ions of  this  world;  and  from  their  lower  level  they  look  up 
to  the  Church  as  above  them,  and  describe  the  Bride  not  by 
objects  of  earth  under  their  own  control,  but  by  objects  in 
heaven  beyond  their  power,  and  exceeding  themselves  in  glory. 
Mlio  is  she  that  looheth  forth  as  the  morning  f — The  Bride  of 
Christ  is  now  emerging  from  the  darkness  of  night  into  the 
greyness  of  the  dawn,  and  stands  doubted  at  first  by  others 
who  she  is,  and  in  what  her  history  will  end.  'Now  when 
the  high  priest,  and  the  captain  of  the  temple,  and  the  chief 
priests,  heard  these  things,  they  doubted  of  them  whereunto 
this  would  grow.'  It  was  light  rising  from  an  unexpected 
quarter,  and  to  them  unwelcome  light,  which  they  seek  to 
'cover  with  a  bushel.'  Gamaliel  counsels  them  that  if  it  be 
of  man's  kindling,  it  will  of  itself  sink  back  into  its  own  dark- 
ness ;  but  if  it  be  the  light  of  God's  sun,  they  cannot  suppress 
it.  He  reminds  them  of  the  false  lights  in  Theudas  and  Judas 
of  Galilee  that  had  gone  out,  and  assures  them  that  'if  this 
counsel  or  work  be  of  men  it  will  come  to  nought,  but  if  it  be 
of  God  they  cannot  overthrow  it.'  In  the  allegoric  language 
of  the  Song,  it  is  the  Bride  issuing  from  the  obscurity  of  night, 
while  the  queens  and  the  concubines,  the  great  ones  ruling  in 
the  Lord's  forsaken  temple,  are  perplexed  and  ask,  'Who  is 


390        THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  10. 

this  tliat  looketh  forth  as  the  morning?'  The  earthly  rulers 
at  first  always  conceive  that  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb  is  not  un- 
like themselves,  and  that  if  she  cannot  be  crushed  by  power 
she  can  be  seduced  by  flattery,  and  will  count  it  an  honour  to 
be  numbered  among  the  princesses  and  the  daughters.  But 
when  they  discover  that  she  stands  single  and  alone,  '  an  only 
one'  that  can  neither  be  corrupted  nor  crushed,  one  not  of  earth 
but  of  heaven,  they  stand  aside  and  exclaim,  '  Who  is  she  that 
looketh  forth  as  the  morning?' 

So  is  it  also  in  the  first  dawning  of  grace  in  the  soul — doubt- 
ful to  the  Bride  herself,  doubtful  to  others,  and  the  world 
wonders  what  new  power  is  at  work  in  the  man.  Men  pre- 
dict that  it  will  soon  vanish  again,  yet  fear  that  it  may  in- 
crease ;  they  stand  in  awe  at  the  first  faint  rays  of  the  light  of 
heaven — rays  visible  where  all  was  darkness  before,  and  rays 
from  heaven  close  beside  them — 'Who  is  this  that  looketh 
forth  as  the  morning?'  what  new  thing  is  this,  what  manner 
of  man  is  this  becoming?  So  also,  the  newly-called  or  newly- 
restored  Bride  of  Christ  marvels  if  this  can  truly  be  the  light 
of  the  morning,  and  not  merely  an  illusion  of  the  night  as  in 
times  past.  Yet  fear  not,  but  'arise,  shake  thyself  from  the 
dust  and  loose  the  bands  of  thy  neck,  O  daughter  of  Zion ! — 
arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
is  risen  upon  thee!'  This  light  will  never  vanish  or  expire, 
for  it  is  'the  path  of  the  just  shining  more  and  more  unto  the 
perfect  day.' 

Fair  as  the  moon — the  light  of  which  is  brighter  than  the 
first  light  of  the  dawn,  before  the  sun  has  risen.  But  the 
comparison  is  not  so  much  to  the  respective  amounts  of  light 
shed  on  the  earth,  as  to  the  luminous  objects  themselves.  '  The 
morning,'  in  the  image,  is  not  the  light  shed  down  from  the 
sky  which  the  still  unrisen  sun  is  brightening,  but  the  dawn- 
ing brightness  in  the  sky  itself;  and  'the  moon,'  signifies  not 
the  light  yielded  by  her  beams,  but  the  moon  herself  in  her 
silvery  beauty;  for  the  placid  ruler  of  the  night  is  both  brighter 
and  lovelier  than  the  faint  light  of  the  clouds  in  early  dawn. 
Such  is  the  progress  of  divine  illumination  in  the  soul  and  in 
the  Church.     The  faint  and  scattered  rays  upon  the  clouds  were 


CHAP.  YI.  10.     THE  bride's  PORTRAIT  BY  THE  QUEENS.     391 

cheering  and  beauteous  after  the  midnight,  but  on  the  bosom 
of  the  dark  night  itself  how  lovely,  how  glorious,  is  the  moon 
with  her  silvery  disk !  So  attractive  an  object  was  it  in  Eastern 
countries,  that  Job  describes  the  progress  of  idolatry  by  '  the 
heart  of  man  being  secretly  enticed,^  when  he  sees  '  the  moon 
walking  in  brightness,'  till  'his  mouth  kisses  his  hand'  in  ad- 
oration. The  Bride  of  Jesus  is  walking  in  brightness  within, 
yet  above,  a  benighted  world,  'fair  as  the  moon'  in  the  mid- 
night darkness  of  earthliness,  error,  and  sin.  Nor  is  her  beauty 
to  be  disparaged,  or  her  light  despised,  because  borrowed  and 
reflected;  for  it  is  the  sun's  own  light,  so  reflected  that  men 
may  look  calmly  on  it.  In  the  absence  of  the  sun,  the  moon 
assists  to  ripen  thousands  of  harvest-fields  every  year — thou- 
sands of  travellers  it  guides  on  their  path — and  thousands  of 
mariners  it  rescues  from  a  watery  grave.  Christ,  the  sun  of 
righteousness,  is  not  personally  here,  and  the  world  can  see 
his  light  only  as  reflected  by  his  Church.  They  have  light  of 
truth  in  the  letter  of  his  word — saving  inward  light  only  from 
his  Spirit — but  embodied  outward  light  only  in  his  people. 
The  'word  is  the  lamp'  of  light,  but  through  man's  blindness 
covered  with  a  bushel;  the  'Spirit  is  the  power'  of  light  re- 
moving the  covering  from  the  word;  and  the  Church  is  the 
light-bearer,  'holding  forth  the  word  of  life'  to  a  dark  world. 
But  let  us  remember  that  it  is  only  when  'our  eyes  are  toward 
the  Lord,'  and  our  face  kept  steadfast  toward  his  countenance, 
that  we  can  catch  his  rays,  reflect  his  glory,  and  walk  in  bright- 
ness 'fair  as  the  moon.' 

Clear  as  the  sun. — As  we  have  already  noted,  it  is  not  ex- 
actly the  progress  of  the  day  that  is  described  in  the  imao;ery, 
but  increased  measure  of  light  in  objects  possessing  various 
degrees  of  illumination — the  grey  dawn,  the  silvery  moon,  the 
dazzling  sun.  'The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light  that 
shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day — clear  as  the  sun.' 
The  dimness  of  the  dawn,  and  the  chaugeableness  of  the  moon, 
are  succeeded  in  the  believer  by  the  steady  and  glorious  bright- 
ness of  the  sun.  It  is  his  in  privilege,  and  it  ought  to  be  his  in 
experience.  Behold  'a  sign  in  heaven,  a  woman  clothed  with 
the  sun;'  putting  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  a  glorious  cloth- 


392        THE  bbidegeoom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  10. 

ing — ^the  life  hid  witli  Christ  in  God/  hid,  not  in  darkness, 
but  in  the  bosom  of  light.  The  tiny  glow-worm  is  said  by  its 
phosphoric  lamp  to  attract  an  insect  enemy  which  it  has  no 
power  to  resist — a  creature  of  the  night  that  loves  the  dark- 
ness, and  hails  the  luminous  spark  only  as  marking  out  its 
prey.  But  He  who  gives  wisdom  to  the  ant  teaches  the  glow- 
worm discretion  ;  and  when  so  assailed,  it  extinguishes  not  its 
midnight  torch  in  order  to  escape,  but,  making  light  its  refuge 
and  its  armour,  sheds  forth  a  shining  flood  all  around,  till  the 
deadly  foe  is  bewildered  and  baffled  by  a  brightness  which  it 
cannot  endure.  Child  of  the  light!  thine  armour,  as  well  as 
thy  beauty,  is  to  be  'clothed  with  the  sun;'  this  is  thy  wall  of 
defence,  which  stupifies  the  powers  of  darkness  and  defies  their 
assault. 

Terrible  as  an  army  with  banners — or  'dazzling  as  the  hosts 
of  heaven ';  for  the  bannered  army  here  referred  to  consists, 
no  doubt,  of  the  stars  of  heaven ;  of  those  visible  hosts  of  light 
which  '  the  Lord  names  and  numbers,'  and  concerning  which  the 
Shuhite  of  old  inquired,  'Is  there  any  number  of  his  armies; 
and  on  whom  doth  not  his  light  arise'?  Alike  from  the  seen 
and  the  unseen  armies  of  heaven — from  the  stars  and  from  the 
angels — does  Jehovah  take  his  title  of  'Lord  of  Hosts';  and 
the  Bride,  having  been  compared  to  the  moon  and  to  the  sun,  is 
now  likened  to  the  brilliant  and  countless  army  of  the  stars. 
The  two  ideas  of  dazzling  light  and  marshalled  armies  are  occa- 
sionally blended  in  Eastern  deserts  :  A  modern  traveller  men- 
tions that  'caravans  of  a  thousand  persons  sometimes  traverse 
the  desert  by  night  marshalled  in  companies,  each  preceded  by 
its  standard,  and  the  individuals  all  carrying  torches,  so  that  the 
country  is  illumined  for  miles  around' — glorious  emblem  of  the 
armies  of  light  marching  through  this  benighted  wilderness. 

But  why  are  the  twinkling  stars  put  after  the  moon  in  its 
brightness,  and  the  sun  in  its  glory?  Is  it  not  so  always  in 
the  word  of  God,  and  are  not  the  stars  the  final  and  ever- 
lasting emblem  of  the  ransomed  ones?  There  is  one  sun 
in  the  heavens  and  no  more,  there  is  one  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness, one  Light  of  the  world;  with  this  light  the  Church  is 
'  clothed,'  and  she  is  therefore  herself  '  clear  as  the  sun.'    So 


CHAP.  VI.  10.      THE  bride's  PORTRAIT  BY  THE  QUEEN.      393 

also,  indeed,  in  the  heavenly  state  '  the  Lamb  is  the  light 
thereof,'  and  in  him  alone,  even  as  branches  in  the  vine,  do  we 
live  and  abide  for  ever — mere  branches  still,  from  one  single 
root  Jesus  Christ.  Yet  in  that  upper  world  all  sin  is  gone, 
all  darkness  that  was  in  us;  and  'to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of 
bis  grace  we  shall  shine'  with  individual  lustre  Hike  the  stars,' 
for  as  '  one  star  differeth  from  another  star  in  glory,  so  is  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead.'  While  '  his  countenance  is  as  the 
sun  shineth  in  his  strength ' — '  they  that  turn  many  to  right- 
eousness shall  shine  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever.'  So  the 
father  of  the  faithful  is  taken  forth  abroad,  asked  to  count  the 
number  of  the  stars,  and  assured  that  '  so  shall  his  seed  be ;' 
but  the  complete  fulfilment  is  in  their  final  state,  in  the  chil- 
dren of  faith  and  of  the  promise,  bright  and  countless  as  the 
stars  for  ever.  So  also  the  moon-supported,  sun-clothed,  and 
star-crowned  woman  in  Revelation;  the  moon  is  beneath  her  feet 
as  past,  the  sun  around  her  person  as  present,  the  stars  above 
her  head  as  future,  her  state  final  and  everlasting.  The  Church 
Patriarchal  resembled  the  faint  dawn,  when  she  '  looked  forth 
as  the  morning;'  the  Church  Levitical  was  'fair  as  the  moon,' 
with  light  imperfect  that  was  to  change  and  pass  away,  with 
types  and  ceremonies  to  change  like  the  moon  by  whose  fluc- 
tuating seasons  they  were  ordered;  the  Church  Evangelical, 
now  that  the  darkness  is  past  and  the  true  light  shineth,  is 
'clear  as  the  sun';  and  the  Church  Triumphant  in  the  resur- 
rection will  be  '  dazzling  as  the  hosts  of  heaven — terrible  as  an 
army  with  banners' — 'the  stars'  promised  to  Abraham;  'the 
exceeding  great  army'  promised  to  Ezekiel ;  not  without  an 
earthly,  but  with  a  more  glorious  heavenly  fulfilment. 

But  while  the  Church  is,  in  her  successive  stages,  'fair  as 
the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and  glorious  as  the  hosts  of  heaven '; 
both  here  and  in  the  Apocalyptic  vision,  she  must  also  be  re- 
garded as  adorned  with  all  these  lights  at  once.  'The  moon  is 
under  her  feet'  as  pertaining  to  time  past,  but  she  is  still  '  fair  as 
the  moon,'  for  she  has  lost  no  beauty  that  she  ever  possessed. 
The  types  and  ceremonies  are  past  for  ever,  and,  either  as  her 
clothing  or  as  her  crown,  they  are  'beggarly  elements  bring- 
ing again  into  bondage,'  but  not  so  if  under  the  feet  of  the 


394        THE  bridegroom's  brief  return,     chap.  VI.  10. 

Bride.  There  they  shine,  as  a  glorious  footstool  on  which  she 
stands — not  subjected  to  them,  but  standing  on  them,  as  on 
a  beauteous  and  shining  pavement  with  emblematic  char- 
acters engraved,  illustrating  all  her  history ;  and  '  the  feet  of  the 
Prince's  daughter  beautiful  with  shoes,'  because  'shod  with 
the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace,'  are  always  more  lovely 
and  attractive  when  the  'moon  is  under  those  feet' — retaining 
the  fairness  of  the  moon,  along  with  the  brightness  of  the  sun. 
By  quenching  that  silver  moonlight  of  types  and  shadows, 
which  was  once  all  her  fairness,  she  would  sadly  tarnish  her 
present  lustre.  Yet  with  the  moon  for  her  footstool,  she  has 
the  sun  for  her  garment;  the  fairest  robe  is  on  her  now,  rai- 
ment white  and  glistening  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  whiten, 
Hhe  fine  linen  which  is  the  righteousness  of  the  saints' — the 
Bridegroom's  raiment  hers,  and  the  Bridegroom's  name, — '  the 
Lord  our  righteousness.'  And  even  now,  she  is  '  glittering  as 
the  hosts  of  heaven ' ;  even  now,  her  Lord  holds  his  messen- 
gers as  '  stars  in  his  right  hand ';  and  she  wears  already  on  her 
head  a  '  crown  of  twelve  stars,'  '  more  than  a  conqueror ' — in 
bright  anticipation  and  earnest  of  everlasting  conquest  and 
kingdom. 

There  are,  however,  no  two  things  on  earth  more  exactly 
alike  than  the  morning  and  the  evening  twilight ;  the  dawn  of 
morning  before  the  sun  has  risen,  and  the  dusk  of  evening  after 
the  sun  has  set,  are  not  visibly  different.  Yet,  while  no  two 
things  are  so  like  in  appearance,  none  are  so  really  different, 
or  in  their  issues  so  contrary — the  one  having  its  progress  and 
end  in  noon-day  brightness,  and  the  other  in  midnight  dark- 
ness. Many  comfort  themselves  because,  although  they  are 
not  'light  in  the  Lord,'  they  have  some  dim  twilight  in 
their  souls,  which  they  expect  to  '  shine  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day.'  But,  friend !  read  the  other  half  of  the  wise 
man's  proverb ;  for  thousands  are  perishing  by  reading  only 
one  half  of  the  word  of  God.  Solomon,  who  in  his  Song  likens 
the  Church  to  morning  light,  in  his  Proverbs  compares  the 
})ath  of  the  just  to  the  morning  twilight  shining  out  of  grey 
dawn  into  perfect  day ;  but,  in  the  same  breath,  he  compares 
the  path  of  the  wicked  to  the  twilight  of  evening,  darkening 


CHAP.  VI.  10.    THE  bride's  PORTRAIT  BY  THE  QUEENS.      395 

more  and  more  into  midnight  blackness — 'the  way  of  the 
wicked  is  as  darkness.'  The  end  of  the  righteous  is  light  with 
no  darkness  at  all ;  the  end  of  the  wicked  is  the  blackness  of 
darkness  for  ever.  Now,  if  it  is  dim  twilight  with  you,  which 
of  the  two  twilights  is  it  ?— morning  dawn,  to  issue  in  light ; 
or  evening  dusk,  to  issue  in  darkness?  "Which  is  increasing 
as  the  hours  pass  away  ? — is  the  light  growing,  or  is  the  dark- 
ness growing  ? — are  you  nearer  to  Christ,  or  further  from  him? 
— more  spiritual,  or  less  spiritual  ? — more  conscientious,  or  less 
conscientious  ? — loving  the  word  more,  or  caring  for  it  less  ? — 
with  light  augmenting,  or  light  diminishing  in  the  soul  toward 
God,  toward  heaven  ?  Is  your  twilight  the  dawn  of  morning, 
or  the  dusk  of  evening? 


396  THE   GARDEN   OF  NUTS.         CHAP.  VI.  11-13. 


XIX. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  NUTS— THE  CHARIOTS  OF  AMMI- 
NADIB— THE  TWO  ARMIES. 

I  went  down  into  the  garden  of  nuts  to  see  the  fruits  of  the  valley,  and 
to  see  whether  the  vine  flourished,  and  the  pomegranates  budded.  Or 
ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  made  me  like  the  chariots  of  Ammi-nadib. 
Return,  return,  O  Shulamite !  return,  return,  that  we  may  look  upon  thee. 
What  will  ye  see  in  the  Shulamite?  As  it  were  the  company  of  two 
armies. — Chap.  vi.  11-13. 

♦       THE  GARDEN  OF  NUTS. 

The  words  undoubtedly  belong  to  the  Bride,  because  through- 
out the  book  the  Bride  is  the  narrator.  The  Brideg-room 
never  speaks  in  soliloquy  as  she  often  does,  'my  Beloved  is 
mine  and  I  am  his ';  and,  while  she  constantly  tells  of  her  trans- 
actions with  the  watchmen  and  others,  he  never  introduces  any 
narrative  except  what  forms  part  of  a  direct  address  to  the 
Bride. 

'The  garden  of  nuts'  into  which  the  Bride  now  descends  is 
the  third  of  the  gardens  of  the  Song,  and  is  marked  by  very 
peculiar  features.  The  first  garden  is  in  spring,  full  of  flowers 
and  tender  grapes  with  nothing  mature;  the  second  garden  is 
in  autumn,  full  of  spices  and  ripe  fruits  with  nothing  imperfect; 
and  this  third  garden  is  in  the  end  of  winter,  but  with  the 
immediate  prospect  of  a  new  spring.  There  are  no  spices,  for 
these  have  all  been  gathered;  there  are  no  pomegranates  nor 
pleasant  fruits,  for  these  were  plucked  and  eaten  at  the  bridal 
feast;  but  there  are  nuts  from  the  previous  autumn,  either 
stored  at  the  gates,  or  still  hanging  on  the  trees.  It  is  still 
winter,  but  the  winter  is  on  the  very  point  of  bursting  in  a 
new  spring,  and  the  Bride  descends  into  the  garden  of  nuts 


CHAP.  VI.  11-1.3.         THE   GARDEN   OP   NUTS.  397 

to  watch  the  first  sproutiugs  of  the  valley,  the  earliest  blossom- 
'ing  of  the  vine,  and  the  budding  of  the  pomegranate. 

To  pruneH  orchyardes  I  was  gone  downe, 

Green  valli-plantes  to  see; 
To  see  if  that  the  vine  were  flour'd, 

Budded  the  grannet-tree, — Fenner. 

Jesus  having  given  the  disciples  their  commission  to  go  forth 
'as  an  army  with  banners,'  leaves  them  and  returns  to  his 
Father;  and  they  descend  from  Mount  Olivet  to  Jerusalem  to 
'  wait  for  the  promise  of  the  Father.'  They  'go  down  into  the 
garden'  to  watch  for  the  fresh  outbreak  of  a  new  spring,  the 
instant  that  Hhe  Spirit  is  poured  out  from  on  high.'  And  if 
ever  on  earth  was  a  '  garden  of  nuts,'  it  was  in  that  upper  room 
in  Jerusalem,  where  they  tarry  in  prayer  for  the  budding  of 
spring.  The  whole  word  of  God  was  a  new  treasure  to  them. 
Jesus  had  '  expounded  to  them  in  all  the  Scriptures  the  things 
concerning  himself;  and  had  opened  their  understanding  to 
apprehend  all  things  that  were  written  of  him  in  Moses,  and 
the  Psalms,  and  the  Prophets.'  But  in  so  brief  a  space  there 
could  not  be  communicated  the  explanation  of  each  separate 
type  and  promise;  but  rather  the  principles  of  interpretatiou, 
illustrated  by  numerous  examples  through  all  the  Scriptures, 
along  with  the  inward  gift  of  the  Spirit  to  give  light  in  all  the 
mysteries  of  the  word.  There  were  therefore  at  once  innumer- 
able kernels  in  the  word  of  God  to  be  extracted  from  their 
enclosing  shells,  and  power  and  promise  for  reaching  the  hid 
treasures — a  whole  garden  of  unopened  nuts — a  whole  'garden 
of  nuts'  freely  opened  for  the  eater. 

While  gathering  and  breaking  those  treasures  of  the  past, 
they  were  all  the  time  watching  for  the  first  breath  of  summer, 
when  'suddenly  there  came  a  rushing  mighty  wind  from  heaven.' 
The  Spirit  was  expected  in  itself,  yet  it  came  at  an  unexpected 
moment,  in  an  unexpected  manner  and  with  unexpected  power ; 
which  could  not  be  described  more  exactly  than  in  the  words 
of  the  Song,  'or  ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  made  me  like  the 
chariots  of  Ammi-nadib.' 

Then  the  Bride  is  addressed  by  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 


398  THE   GARDEN   OF   KUTS.  CHAP.  VI.  11. 

as  the  Shulamite,  or  Solomouite,  as  the  spouse  of  Solomon  the 
Prince  of  Peace.  And  surely  it  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that 
the  narrative  in  the  Acts  tv/ice  mentions  Solomon's  Porch  as 
the  place  where  the  Pentecostal  Church  assembled ;  '  they  were 
all  with  one  accord  in  Solomon's  porch.'  This  was  their  place 
of  daily  meeting,  and  since  they  had  not  yet  received  the  specific 
name  of  Christians,  many  would  probably  call  them  the  peo- 
ple that  met  in  Solomon's  porch — the  Solomonite  or  Shulamite. 
The  real  name  has  a  far  higher  origin;  it  is  the  Bride  of  'the 
Prince  of  Peace';  it  is  the  daughter  of  the  God  of  Peace;  it  is 
the  daughter  of  Zion  publishing  peace. 

The  incident  that  follows  is  given  almost  in  the  very  words 
of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles — 'Return,  return,  O  Shulamite, 
that  we  may  look  on  thee,'  is  the  language  of  the  Song ;  the 
words  of  the  history  are, 'as  the  lame  man  that  was  healed 
held  Peter  and  John,  all  the  people  ran  together  in  the  porch 
called  Solomon's,  greatly  wondering.'  The  people  were  in- 
tensely desirous  of  seeing  the  Apostles  ;  the  lame  man  held 
them  as  they  passed  forward  through  the  porch,  and  the  peo- 
ple ran  to  them,  unwilling  that  they  should  enter  the  temple, 
but  virtually  asking  them  to  return  that  they  might  look  on 
them  ;  more,  indeed,  than  asking,  for  the  one  was  holding  them 
back  from  advancing,  while  the  rest  ran  up  to  them.  'What 
will  ye  see  in  the  Shulamite?'  is  the  answer  of  the  Bride;  'Ye 
men  of  Israel,  why  look  ye  so  earnestly  on  us?'  is  the  answer 
of  the  apostles.  Ye  will  see  in  this  Shulamite  'as  it  were  the 
company  of  two  armies'  is  her  account  of  herself;  'why  look 
ye  on  us,  as  though  by  our  own  power  or  holiness  we  had 
made  this  man  to  walk?'  is  their  account  of  themselves,  or  in 
the  language  of  another  of  the  apostles,  '  we  are  men  of  like 
passions  with  yourselves.' 

I  went  down  into  the  garden  of  nuts  to  see  the  fruits  of  the  valley, 
and  to  see  whether  the  vine  flourished  and  the  jpomegranates  bud- 
ded.— The  older  interpreters  understand  these  nuts  of  the  larger 
species  like  the  walnuts,  which  are  most  common  in  warmer 
countries ;  and  they  distribute  the  several  parts  into  the  outer 
husk  which  is  bitter,  the  enclosing  shell  which  is  hard  and 


CHAP.  VI.  11.  THE    GARDEN    OF    NUTS.  399 

sometimes  rough,  and  the  kernel  within  which  is  sweet  (Orig., 
Theod.)  They  applied  the  emblem  variously;  we  take  it  of 
the  word  of  God.  Undoubtedly  that  blessed  word  to  the  chil- 
dren of  this  world,  and  to  every  man  at  first,  is  bitter  to  the 
taste.  The  outer  rind  is  so  bitter  and  distasteful  to  many,  that 
they  conclude  there  can  be  no  sweetness  within,  and  cast  the 
whole  away;  or  more  commonly  they  leave  it  untouched  and 
untasted,  sometimes  pleased  with  certain  palatable  prepara- 
tions from  it,  but  never  really  tasting  the  word  itself.  The 
reproof  that  meets  them  on  the  very  surface  of  the  word  is  so 
harsh  and  nauseous  to  them,  that  they  look  on  the  whole  as  a 
bitter  medicine,  which  may  be  necessary  and  therefore  good 
for  the  sick  and  dying,  but  which  is  not  fit  for  any  who  are 
in  life  and  health,  and  able  to  relish  pleasant  food.  They  w'ill 
not  therefore  throw  it  away  in  contempt,  nor  will  they  revile 
the  Good  Physician ;  but  they  leave  both  the  medicine  and  the 
healer  to  an  hour  of  extremity — a  dying  hour,  and  they  de- 
scend into  the  grave  unsaved.  But  when  a  man's  conscience 
is  once  awake  to  his  lost  condition,  he  no  langer  neglects  the 
word  of  life  on  account  of  its  bitter  husk ;  he  can  receive  re- 
proof and  even  love  it,  because  '  the  reproofs  of  instruction  are 
the  way  of  life.'  Nothing  now  seems  bitter  compared  with  sin, 
nothing  painful  except  the  anger  of  a  holy  God. 

But  beneath  the  bitter  surface  he  finds  a  hard  shell,  and 
seems  further  than  ever  from  the  nutritious  kernel  within.  It 
is  not  distaste  that  hinders  him  now,  but  helplessness.  He 
finds  himself  like  a  hungry  child  in  a  garden  of  nuts  which 
hang  over  him  in  tempting  profusion,  but  his  teeth  are  too 
feeble  to  break  them.  Such  is  the  letter  of  the  blessed  word, 
a  hard  shell  containing  a  coveted  treasure,  but  without  the 
least  power  to  impart  life  to  the  soul  until  it  is  opened  by  a 
stronger  hand.  But  w^hen  once  the  hard  shell  is  broken,  the 
kernel  is  found,  and  is  sweeter  than  honey  from  the  comb;  the 
hungering  soul  'eats  that  which  is  good;  eats  and  lives  for 
ever.'  Then  there  is  the  whole  garden  of  nuts;  hundreds 
hanging  around  in  every  pathway  of  the  word,  in  every  line 
of  the  book  of  life.     The  soul  delights  in  every  hard  case  that 


400  THE  CHARIOTS  OF  AMMI-NADIB.      CHAP.    VI.  12. 

is  broken,  and  every  fresh  kernel  that  is  opened  for  it  out  of 
those  countless  treasures.  It  says  of  each  in  succession,  this 
now  is  mine,  and  that  is  my  own  for  ever.  It  delights  also  in 
the  'treasures  that  are  still  hid.'  It  looks  over  all  the  word 
of  God,  all  the  promises,  all  the  truths,  and  says — These  are 
all  mine  in  free  gift :  I  can  now  see  only  their  outer  surface, 
but  they  are  kept  for  me  by  iny  heavenly  Father,  and  will  be 
opened  for  me  as  I  am  able  to  receive  them. 

Children  of  this  world!  you  also  are  often  entering  a  gar- 
den of  nuts,  you  are  seeking  earnestly  to  find  the  fruit,  you 
are  often  forcing  your  way  through  much  that  is  distasteful, 
with  great  eifort  you  break  the  hard  shell  at  length,  and  all 
you  find  '  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.'  The  fruit  tasted 
is  often  rotten,  and  more  bitter  within  than  without,  and  at 
best  it  is  a  mere  empty  shell  that  can  yield  no  real  sweetness, 
no  satisfaction  to  the  soul,  no  food  to  the  man.  But  in  the 
whole  garden  of  God  there  is  not  a  single  fruit  that  is  bitter, 
not  a  single  fruit  that  is  empty  and  void.  All  is  full,  all  is 
ripe,  all  is  sweet;  it  is  all  the  fruit  of 'righteousness,'  the  fruit 
of  '■  peace,'  the  fruit  of  '  eternal  life.'  '  O  taste  and  see  that 
God  is  good !' — enter  the  garden — '  eat  and  live !'  If  you  will 
not  hearken  to  us,  listen  to  one  who  knew  all  that  was  to  be 
found  without  the  word  of  God,  and  who,  haply  from  too  dis- 
tant a  position,  thus  describes  what  is  to  be  found  within. 

Within  that  awful  volume  lies 

The  mystery  of  mysteries. 

Happiest  they  of  human  race, 

To  whom  their  God  has  granted  grace 

To  read,  to  fear,  to  hope,  to  pray, 

To  lift  the  latch  and  force  the  way. 

And  better  had  they  ue'er  been  born, 

Who  read  to  doubt,  or  read  to  scorn. — Scott. 

THE  CHAEIOTS  OF  AMMI-JSTADIB. 

Or  ever  I  was  aware,  my  soul  made  me  like  the  chariots  of 
Ammi-nadib. — What  those  were  is  of  little  importance  to  the 
meaning  of  the  verse,  as  the  substance  of  the  image  lies  in  the 


CHAP.  VI.  12.      THE  CHARIOTS  OF  AMMI-XADIB.  401 

swiftness  of  the  chariots.  Taken  as  a  proper  name^  xVmmi- 
nadib  is  supposed  by  many  to  have  been  some  captain  of  the 
host,  famous  like  Jehu  for  the  speed  of  his  chariot  horses  ;  but 
it  seems  improbable  that  any  single  officer  should  be  so  marked 
out  in  this  Song,  and  especially  one  of  whom  we  find  no  re- 
cord. Translated,  it  has  been  rendered  the  chariots  of  'a  peo- 
ple willing,  generous,  or  princely';  or  else  ^of  the  people  of 
the  Prince,'  meaning  his  warlike  attendants  (Gesen.)  This 
last  explanation  appears  to  us  the  best,  even  if  we  should  un- 
derstand it  of  the  chariots  of  an  earthly  king  and  his  attending 
nobles.  But  we  greatly  prefer  to  interpret  it  of  the  chariots 
of  Messiah,  the  Lord's  Anointed ;  and  then  the  reference  will 
be  the  same  as  in  the  Psalms,  '  the  chariots  of  God  are  twenty 
thousand,  even  thousands  of  angels.'  Solomon  was  familiar 
with  this  use  of  the  term  chariot  employed  by  his  father  David, 
and  there  is  nothing  more  probable  than  that  he  should  desig- 
nate these  angel-chariots  as  the  chariots  of  Amrai-nadib,  or  of 
the  angelic  attendants  on  the  great  King.  But,  in  every  way, 
the  sense  is  one ;  the  hasting  soul  of  the  Bride  is  likened  be- 
fore by  the  King  to  the  swiftness  of  the  chariots  of  Pharaoh, 
and  is  now  compared  by  herself  to  the  speed  of  the  chariots  of 
Ammi-nadib. 

The  Bride  is  engaged  In  some  duty,  discharging  It,  however, 
in  the  Lord's  name,  and  not  without  a  sense  of  his  presence; 
and  in  a  moment  her  soul  is  carried  away  directly,  irresistibly, 
rapidly,  toward  her  Bridegroom  and  her  King.  She  has  no 
desire  and  no  power  to  oppose  the  divine  Impulse;  she  is  on 
the  earth,  though  not  of  the  earth;  but  in  a  moment  Is  ^seated 
in  heavenly  places  with  Christ  Jesus.'  A  willing  chariot 
has  borne  a  willing  soul  swiftly  into  the  presence  of  her  Lord. 
I  knew  not  till  *my  soul  made  me  as  the  chariots  of  Ammi- 
nadib — he  overturneth  the  mountains  and  they  know  not — the 
wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  canst  not  tell  (thou 
knowest  not)  whence  itcometh;'  the  power  comes  suddenly 
in  all  these  cases,  and  uncontrollably  In  them  all.  The  moun- 
tains overturned  by  unknown  and  Irresistible  might;  the  wind 
blowing  at  the  command  of  an  unseen  power,  unknown  and 


402  THE  CHARIOTS  OF  AMMI-NADIB.       CHAP.  VI.  12. 

uncontrolled  by  us ;  the  soul  carried  upward  by  a  force  not 
our  own,  nor  under  our  direction — 'so  is  every  one  that  is 
born  of  the  Spirit.'  We  know  not  the  wind's  secret  cham- 
bers, or  its  goings  out  and  comings  in,  yet  its  irresistible  power 
is  instantly  felt  by  us;  and  so  here,  it  is  the  free  breathing 
of  the  Spirit,  irrespective  of  any  immediate  asking  at  the  mo- 
ment; not  unlike  the  first  breath  of  that  Spirit  upon  the  dead 
soul. 

It  may  be  in  holy  joy,  that  the  soul  is  borne  away  to  '  the 
land  that  is  very  far  off,  to  see  the  King  in  his  beauty,'  or  it 
may  be  in  holy  sorrow, '  looking  on  him  whom  we  have  pierced'; 
'rising  hastily,  and  going  to  the  grave'  of  him  whom  our  soul 
loveth,  'to  weep  there.' 

See,  see  the  chariot  and  those  rushing  wheels 
That  whirled  the  prophet  up  at  Chebar  flood ; 
My  spirit  some  transporting  cherub  feels, 
To  bear  me  where  the  towers  of  Salem  stood, 
Once  glorious  towers,  now  sunk  in  guiltless  blood. 

There  doth  my  soul  in  holy  vision  sit, 
In  pensive  trance,  and  anguish,  and  ecstatic  fit, 
Mine  eye  hath  found  that  sad  sepulchral  rock, 
That  was  the  casket  of  heaven's  richest  store. 

Milton. 

Often  however,  most  commonly  and  most  gloriously,  it  is  in 
the  very  midst  of  asking,  while  engaged  in  the  exercise,  that 
the  Spirit  suddenly  and  mightily  bears  away  the  soul ;  gives 
it  more  than  angelic  wings;  and  seats  it  in  heavenly  places 
with  Christ.  There  are  few  better  signs  of  spiritual  health 
than  this  instantaneous  ascension  of  the  heart  to  Christ  (Owen). 
Yet  it  is  widely  different  from  the  rapturous  flight  of  the  un- 
stable mind,  easily  carried  about  with  every  wind ;  and  very 
far  from  being  found  by  those  who  hope  to  maintain  heavenly 
communion,  merely  by  momentary  thoughts  and  petitions.  It 
is  often  given  by  the  Lord  to  the  young  convert  of  his  own 
sovereign  grace,  in  fatherly  kindness  to  the  new-born  soul,  the 
helpless  babe  in  Zion ;  it  is  often  lost  afterwards  in  the  midst 
of  cares  and  pleasures  of  earth,  or  in  the  multitude  of  outward 


CHAP.  VI.  13  THE   TWO   ARMIES.  403 

works ;  and  in  the  case  before  us  the  gift,  or  the  recovery  of 
the  gift,  has  been  the  fruit  of  spiritual  exercise  both  long  and 
severe.  There  may  be  neither  length  of  time  nor  severity  of 
labour  in  the  immediate  act,  but  it  is  the  result  of  both.  The 
closed  doors  between  the  soul  and  heaven  have  been  re-opened, 
the  spiritual  youth  is  renewed,  the  eagle's  wings  that  had  lost 
their  plumes  have  begun  to  grow  again,  in  a  moment  suddenly 
the  breath  of  heaven  wafts  the  spirit  upward,  and  it  'mounts 
with  strong  wings  of  eagles'  to  the  sanctuary  on  high.  Happy 
art  thou,  brother!  sister!  if,  'or  ever  thou  art  aware,  thy  soul 
is  making  thee  like  the  chariots  of  Ammi-nadib';  and,  if  so, 
'quench  not  the  Spirit'  that  kindles  this  divine  love  within 
thee,  else  that  same  chariot-like  soul  will  soon  be  cleaving  to 
the  dust,  and  drag  heavily  along  till,  with  broken  wheels,  it 
is  immovable  in  the  mire. 

He  takes  my  soul  e'er  I'm  aware 
And  shows  me  where  his  glories  are; 
No  chariot  of  Ammi-nadib 
The  heavenly  rapture  can  describe. 

O  may  my  spirit  daily  rise 
On  wings  of  faith  above  the  skies, 
Till  death  shall  make  my  last  remove, 
To  dwell  for  ever  with  my  Love. 

Waits. 

THE   TWO   ARMIES. 

Return,  return,  0  Shulamite  !  return,  return,  that  we  may  look 
upon  thee. — The  Shulamite  is  the  daughter  of  peace,  the  peace- 
accepting,  peace-proclaiming,  peace-making  Bride  of  Solomon 
the  Prince  of  Peace.  Those  who  ask  her  to  return  are  cer- 
tainly the  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  who  are  represented  as  pres- 
ent throughout  the  whole  Song,  even  in  its  most  sacred  scenes, 
and  have  latterly  manifested  a  growing  interest  in  the  spouse, 
and  in  her  Beloved.  The  chariot-like  flight  to  her  Lord  is 
represented  as  bearing  her  away  from  them;  which  may  signify 
no  more  than  the  mind  within  itself  being  borne  away  to  Je- 
sus, but  may  also  imply  a  retiring  from  friends  to  meet  with 


404  TPIE   TWO    AEMIES.  CHAP  VI.  13. 

Christ — as  Mary  at  his  call  rose  quickly,  and  M^ent  through 
the  weeping  company  to  find  him,  without  telling  them  why 
she  so  left  in  haste.  Therefore  they  call,  'Return,  return,  O 
Shulamite!  that  we  may  look  on  thee/  When  thou  wast  sor- 
rowing after  thy  Beloved,  we  saw  a  heavenly  beauty  through 
thy  tears  and  wounds,  and  called  thee  even  then  'the  fairest 
among  women.'  But  thou  hast  found  Him  now,  or  rather 
hast  been  found  of  him ;  he  has  called  thee,  and  made  thee 
'beautiful  as  Tirzah';  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  themselves, 
the  queens  and  princesses,  admire,  and  praise,  and  fear  thee; 
and  we,  who  were  not  without  interest  in  thy  sorrow,  desire 
to  see  thee  now  in  thy  gladness,  and  in  thy  beauty — 'Return,  O 
Shulamite!  that  we  may  look  upon  thee.'  They  call  her  now 
by  a  new  name.  'Fairest  among  women'  they  called  her  be- 
fore, but  'the  Shulamite'  now;  'being  justified  by  faith  she 
has  peace  with  God  through  Jesus  Christ  her  Lord';  'He  is 
her  peace,'  and  she  herself  is  peace,  for  '  the  peace  of  God  that 
passeth  understanding  keeps  her  heart  and  mind  in  Christ  Je- 
sus,' and  in  his  name  she  is  'proclaiming  peace'  to  the  perish- 
ing. 

What  will  ye  see  in  the  Shulamite  f  as  it  were  the  company  of 
two  armies. — She  accepts  the  name  of  Shulamite,  and  gladly 
recognises  it  as  her  own,  being  the  willing  consort  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace.  But  what  will  ye  see  in  her,  that  ye  should  so  look 
upon  her?  Is  it  all  peace  that  ye  will  see  in  her  whom  you 
call  by  the  name  of  peace — the  Shulamite?  Jesus,  the  greater 
Solomon,  said, — '  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on 
the  earth,' — warning  his  followers  of  war  as  well  as  peace  ;  and 
his  bride  the  Shulamite  in  her  own  place  informs  all  who  de- 
sire to  see,  admire,  and  follow  her,  that  all  is  not  peace  either 
within  or  without.  She  has  found  peace,  desires  to  diifuse 
peace,  and  cherishes  the  name  of  Shulamite  in  heaven  and  in 
earth.  But  she  says.  There  is  not  peace  with  me  without  war; 
there  is  the  promise  of  peace,  there  is  the  present  fruit  of  peace, 
and  there  is  the  earnest  of  everlasting  peace.  But  there  are 
two  armies  in  the  Shulamite,  these  armies  are  in  constant  war, 
and  be  not  stumbled  if  you  see  me  tempest-tossed,  'enduring 


CHAP.  VI.  13.  THE   TWO   AHMIES.  405 

a  great  fight  of  afflictions,  and  for  peace  having  great  bitter- 
ness.' Were  not  my  first  words  to  you,  'I  am  black  but  comely, 
O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem'?  and  think  not  that  I  am  al- 
tered now.  You  looked  on  me  then  as  black,  and  I  warned 
you  that  I  was  comely  also  as  well  as  black,  and  charged  you 
not  to  look  upon  my  blackness;  you  look  on  me  now  as  comely, 
but  I  charge  you  not  to  look  upon  my  comeliness,  for  I  am 
black  as  well  as  comely.  There  were  two  armies  in  me  then, 
though  you  suspected  there  was  but  one,  and  that  of  darkness; 
there  are  two  armies  in  me  still,  though  you  think  there  is 
but  one,  and  that  of  light.  There  are  in  me  hosts  of  hell; 
there  are  in  mo  hosts  of  heaven. 

As  angel  armies  exquisite, 

So  shall  you  see  this  Shulamite, 

( Troth-plight  Spouse) 

sang  one  of  our  old  singers  in  Israel.  Yes,  but  two  armies  in 
me,  saith  the  Shulamite;  Uhe  angel  armies  exquisite,'  and  the 
powers  of  darkness,  with  their  name  of  Legion.  Did  vou  not 
hear,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem !  of  that  battle  between  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit,  the  issue  of  which  left  me  in  so  sad  a  state, 
when  you  met  me  on  that  night  of  sorrow  in  the  streets  of  Je- 
rusalem? 'Then  I  slept  but  my  heart  waked;'  then  'the  flesh 
lusted  against  the  Spirit  and  the  Spirit  against  the  flesh';  and 
in  that  hour  of  darkness  the  army  of  earth  and  hell  jjrevailed 
over  me.  You  heard  my  King  console  me  afterwards,  say- 
ing, 'my  dove,  my  undefiled  is  one;'  but  that  is  because  'he 
sees  no  iniquity  in  Jacob  nor  transgression  in  Israel ';  and  he 
said  it  in  his  love,  to  'bind  up  my  broken  heart'  which  told 
me  that  I  was  not  one  but  two,  double-minded  and  unstable. 
You  heard  also  both  my  Lord  himself  and  those  threescore 
queens  compare  me  to  'an  army  with  banners';  but  they  Avere 
willing  to  forget  that  there  encamp  within  me  not  one  army 
but  two,  contending  with  each  other.  And  now  the  Spirit  has 
prevailed  over  the  flesh,  the  new  man  over  the  old,  the  law  in 
the  mind  over  the  law  in  the  members ;  but  think  not  that 
the  old  man  with  his  deceitful  lusts  is  dead  within  me,  and 


406  THE   TWO   APwMIES.  CHAP.  VI.  13. 

whatever  you  admire  in  me,  admire  not  me  but  '  the  grace  of 
God  that  is  in  me.'  Remember  that  the  hostile  army,  unseen 
for  the  time,  is  lying  in  ambush  within  me,  and  be  not  startled 
if  you  should  witness  another  conflict  or  another  defeat  for  a 
season;  for  in  the  end  1  shall  be  '  more  than  conqueror  through 
him  that  loved  me.'  In  my  contest  I  often  cry,  '  O  wretched 
man  that  I  am !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?'  but  at  this  moment  I  sing,  '  Thanks  be  to  God  who 
giveth  me  the  victory  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord  !'  Look 
therefore  at  the  Shulamite,  look  and  love,  look  and  imitate ; 
for  I  would,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem  !  that  ye  were  '  both 
almost  and  altogether  such  as  I  am,  except  these  bonds.'  Only, 
forget  not  that  on  earth  there  ever  are  *  in  the  Shulamite  as  it 
were  the  company  of  two  armies.' 


CHAP.  VII.  1-5.   PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE's  DAUGHTER.   407 


XX. 

POBTRAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE'S  DAUGHTER. 

THE  BEAUTIFUL  SHOES — THE  WELL-SET  JEWELS — THE  GOBLET  NOT 
WANTING  WINE — THE  WHEAT  BAILED  WITH  LILIES — THE  TWIN 
KOES — THE  TOWER  OF  IVORY — THE  FISH-POOLS  OF  HESHBON — THE 
TOWER   OF   LEBANON — CARMEL — THE   PURPLE — THE   GALLERIES. 

How  beautiful  are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  O  prince's  daughter !  the  joints 
of  thy  thighs  are  like  jewels,  the  work  of  the  hands  of  a  cunning  work- 
man :  Thy  navel  [or  girdle-clasp]  is  like  a  round  goblet,  which  wanteth 
not  liquor  [or  mixed  wine] :  thy  belly  [or  vesture]  is  like  an  heap  of  wheat 
set  about  with  lilies.  Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young  roes  that  are 
twins :  Thy  neck  is  as  a  tower  of  ivory ;  thine  eyes  like  the  fish-pools  in 
Heshbon,  by  the  gate  of  Bath-rabbim  ;  thy  nose  is  as  the  tower  of  Leba- 
non, which  looketh  toward  Damascus:  Thine  head  upon  thee  is  like 
Carmel,  and  the  hair  of  thine  head  like  purple :  the  king  is  held  in  the 
galleries. — Chap.  vii.  1-5. 

THE   BEAUTIFUL   SHOES. 

How  beautiful  are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  0  Prince's  daughter! — 
The  King  of  kings  lias  made  a  marriage  feast  for  his  Son.  As 
in  Jesus  Christ  he  speaks  to  us  as  unto  sons,  so,  in  the  relation 
of  the  Church  toward  him  as  his  Son's  Bride,  he  addresses  her 
in  the  forty-fifth  Psalm  as  his  own  daughter,  saying  'Hearken, 
O  daughter !  and  consider,  forget  also  thine  own  people  and 
thy  father's  house,  so  shall  the  King  (the  Son  and  Heir  of  the 
Father  united  with  him  in  the  kingdom)  greatly  desire  thy 
beauty';  and  immediately  after  this  address,  she  is  entitled 
Hhe  King's  daughter  all  glorious  within.'  In  like  manner, 
the  Father  says,  '  Come  ye  out  from  among  them  and  be  ye 
separate,  and  ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters,  saith  the 
Lord  Almighty.'  So  also  the  inquiring  daughters  of  Je- 
rusalem, having  named  her  the  Shulamite,  the  Peaceful,  and 
peace-making,  after  her  husband  Solomon  the  Prince  of  peace, 


408      PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRIISCE's  DAUGHTER.     CHAP.  VII.  1. 

now  call  her  the  'Prince's  daughter',  recognising  her  as  the 
child  of  the  Great  King.  'Blessed  are  the  peacemakers,  for 
they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God' — He  the  God  of  peace 
— they  the  children  of  peace. 

But  here  the  Bride  is  the  messenger  of  peace  to  the  lost,  and 
the  feet  that  have  borne  the  message  receive  the  first  kiss  of 
gratitude  and  love.  The  inquiring  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
are  gathered  around  the  Bride  when  the  rushing  wind  of  Pen- 
tecost 'makes  her  soul  like  the  chariots  of  Ammi-nadib',  and 
as  they  survey  her  she  stands  above  them,  and  they  first  por- 
tray her  beautiful  feet.  'How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains 
are  the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings,  that  publisheth 
peace'!  is  the  first  joyful  exclamation  of  souls  gladdened  with 
the  GosjDcl  sound — a  welcome  to  the  messenger,  to  the  message, 
and  to  Him  who  sends  them  both.  This  messenger  of  peace 
is  elsewhere  addressed  'O  Zion!  that  bringest  good  tidings, 
get  thee  up  into  the  high  mountain' ;  there  the  messenger  being 
the  daughter  of  Zion,  and  here  the  daughter  of  Zion's  King. 
The  well-shod  feet  have  borne  the  willing  herald  to  the  moun- 
tain-top with  the  glad  tidings  of  great  joy;  and  the  listening 
multitude  in  the  valley  beneath,  looking  upward,  exclaim, 
'  How  beautiful  are  thy  feet  with  shoes !'  beautiful  because 
'  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace.' 

How  altered  is  now  thy  case,  O  bride  of  Jesus !  A  little 
while  ago  thy  snowy  feet  were  fair  to  no  other  eyes  save  thine 
own.  Thou  wast  'the  tender  and  delicate  woman  that  couldst 
not  adventure  to  set  the  sole  of  the  foot  to  the  ground  for  deli- 
cateness  and  tenderness.'  All  thy  desire  was,  not  to  have  thy 
rest  disturbed,  nor  thy  beauty  marred — not  even  for  the  love 
of  Christ,  nor  of  the  souls  of  men — '  I  have  washed  my  feet, 
how  shall  I  defile  them?'  Thou  wouldst  say  nothing  and  do 
nothing  that  might  either  trouble  thine  ease,  or  expose  thy 
fair  character  to  contempt,  or  thy  Avords  or  ways  to  the  risk  of 
mistake,  suffer  who  might  in  consequence  of  thy  selfishness. 
But  soon  thou  wast  fain  to  seek  thy  hidden  Lord,  all  unshod, 
over  the  hard  streets  and  through  the  miry  lanes  of  Jerusalem, 
and  that  in  the  dark  midnight,  where  thou  couldst  not  see  to 
pick  thy  dainty  steps.     And  when  the  rough-shod  watchmen 


CUAP.  VII.  1.  THE    BEAUTIFUL   SHOES.  409 

met  thee,  and  smote  thee  on  the  unveiled  cheek,  thy  tender 
feet  did  not  escape  without  their  bleeding  wounds.  How  lovely 
then  were  those  well-washed  feet  thou  \mst  so  loath  to  defile! 
But  now  these  same  feet — how  beautiful  they  are  with  shoes, 
beautiful  because  of  the  silver  sandals  that  adorn  them!  When 
the  foot-sore  prodigal  had  returned  home,  his  father  quickly 
commanded  to  put  shoes  upon  his  feet;  the  King's  Sou  has 
already,  in  like  manner,  apparelled  his  weeping  and  returning 
Bride ;  and  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  witness  and  admire, 
for  these  well-shod  feet  have  borne  to  them  the  good  tidings  of 
great  joy. 

Yet  remember,  Prince's  daughter!  that  these  'beautiful 
shoes'  are  not  merely  for  your  neighbour's  profit,  but  for  your 
own ;  for  it  is  an  essential  part  of  the  Christian  armour  to  have 
the  'feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace.' 
Xor  can  we  interpret  this  to  mean  sioiply  'the  peace  of  God 
keeping  your  own  heart  and  mind  in  Christ  Jesus,'  but  the 
aggressive  outgoing  with  the  Gospel  of  peace  to  all,  'Behold,^ 
said  Jesus,  '  I  send  you  forth,  and  as  ye  go,  preach  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  at  hand.'  It  is  really  your  armour,  for  if  you 
carry  the  Gospel  of  peace  into  the  heart  of  Satan's  kingdom, 
'the  strong  man  armed'  will  need  more  than  all  his  skill  and 
power  to  keep  his  own  goods  in  peace,  and  will  have  the  less 
leisure  and  courage  for  assaulting  you  within  your  bulwarks 
of  salvation.  It  is  your  own  armour,  for  if  on  that  night  when 
the  Lord  stood  at  your  door  with  his  head  filled  with  dew, 
your  feet  had  been  'beautiful  with  shoes' — if  you  had  been 
like  the  passover  pilgrim  with  'your  loins  girt  and  your  shoes 
on  your  feet,'  you  would  never  have  disowned  Him  and  de- 
graded yourself  by  replying — 'I  have  washed  my  feet,  how 
shall  I  defile  them?'  Are  then  your  feet  beautiful  with  shoes? 
O  Prince's  daughter !  are  they  in  this  very  hour  shod  with  the 
preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace;  and  'as  you  go  are  you 
preaching'  the  tidings  of  peace? 

'How  pleasant  are  thy  treadynges  with  thy  shoes,  O  Princes 
daughter!'  is  the  rendering  of  the  Great  Bible,  and  what  we 
translate  the  feet  is  literally  'the  goings'  of  the  Prince's  daugh- 
ter.   It  includes  the  whole  way  and  walk  of  the  Bride  of  Jesus  j 


410      PORTRAIT  OP  THE  PEINCE's  DAUGHTER.     CHAP.  VII.  1. 

and  there  is  nothing  by  which  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
around  so  judge  of  us,  and  also  of  our  Lord.  When  our  goings 
are  'pleasant/  when  we  Svalk  before  the  Lord  unto  all  well- 
pleasing';  when  our  walk  and  conversation  are  well-ordered, 
and  steadfast;  when,  being  well-shod,  we  fear  not  the  roughest 
stones  when  they  form  our  path,  and  neither  turn  aside  from 
them  nor  stumble  over  them;  when,  being  circumspect,  we 
avoid  the  ditch  by  the  way-side,  and  our  feet  are  not  bemired 
with  the  world  and  sin,  like  all  around  us — however  they 
may  mock  for  a  time  because  we  keep  ourselves  unspotted 
from  the  world,  the  spectators  in  the  end  will  exclaim — 'How 
pleasant  are  thy  treadiugs,  how  beautiful  thy  feet  with  shoes, 
O  Prince's  daughter' ! 

Further,  are  you  walking  in  the  liberty  of  the  Gospel?  for 
some  render  the  words  '  O  freely-boru  daughter,'  and  interpret 
them  '  born,  not  according  to  the  flesh,  but  according  to  faith 
and  promise'  (Fenner).  And  again,  are  you  prince-like,  O 
prince's  daughter!  for  others  translate  'O  noble  daughter,'  O 
generous,  princely  daughter.  And  there  is  no  difference,  for 
if  you  are  the  Prince's  daughter  you  are  free-born,  and  you 
are  prince-like  yourself;  if  God  is  your  Father,  and  his  Son 
your  Eider  Brother,  you  are  like  Jesus  and  bear  his  image. 
But  how  prince-like  and  generous  is  He ! — '  freely  ye  have  re- 
ceived, freely  give,'  saith  your  Lord.  So  was  it  with  the  Bride 
of  Jesus,  when  her  feet  were  first  'beautiful  with  shoes' ;  freely 
she  received  the  bread  of  life,  and  freely  she  broke  it  to  per- 
ishing thousands — go  and  follow  her;  freely  also  she  received 
all  things,  for  'all  things  were  hers,'  and,  prince-like,  she 
scattered  them  abroad — 'no  man  saying  that  any  of  the  things 
he  possessed  were  his  own.'  Go  and  do  likewise  in  your  place 
and  in  your  measure ;  walk  in  the  same  spirit;  and  of  you  also 
men  will  say — '  Behold  the  daughter  of  the  King !' 

O  bondsman  of  sin!  Satan,  leading  you  captive  at  his  will, 
has  done  with  you  as  conquerors  of  old  with  their  captives. 
In  token  of  your  subjection  to  him,  he  has  taken  the  shoes 
from  your  feet,  and  made  you  walk  like  a  slave  'naked  and 
barefoot'  in  the  miry  clay,  through  the  briars  and  thorns, 
over  the  sharp  rocks,  across  the  deep  rivers.     Hear  what  a  re- 


CHAP.  VII.  1.  THE   WELL-SET   JEWELS.  411 

turuiiig  God  and  Father  proclaims,  'Withhold  thy  feet  from 
being  unshod — return  to  him  and  he  will  return  to  you.'  Shoes 
for  your  feet  are  ready  waiting  you  in  a  Father's  house ;  and 
when  he  sees  you  in  the  distance  approaching,  he  will  not  suffer 
you  to  enter  in  rags,  but  will  run  to  meet  you,  and  will  give 
the  hasty  command,  '  Bring  forth  the  best  robe  and  put  it  on 
him,  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes  upon  his  feet !' 

THE  WELL-SET  JEWELS. 

The  joints  of  thy  thighs  are  like  jewels,  the  work  of  the  hands  of 
a  cunning  workman. — These  words  present  a  beautiful  image 
of  the  glorious  unity  of  the  Church  in  the  sight  of  every  earnest 
beholder.  The  joining  of  the  limbs  to  the  body,  is  likened  to 
the  perfect  setting  of  the  gem  in  the  gold  by  the  hands  of  a 
skilful  artist.  Along  with  the  free  heart  of  the  Church  to  all 
the  world,  there  could  not  fail  to  be  noticed,  her  perfect  union 
within  herself.  'Behold  how  these  Christians  love  one  an- 
other!' exclaimed  the  ancient  heathen;  for  'hereby,'  said  our 
Lord,  'shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have 
love  one  to  another.'  The  union  of  all  the  members  of  Christ 
in  subjection,  in  harmony,  in  love,  is  constantly  rejaresented 
by  the  parts  of  the  body  perfectly  joined  together  in  one.  '  The 
head  is  Christ,  from  whom  the  whole  body  is  fitly  joined  to- 
gether, and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth.' 
In  the  description  of  the  entire  person,  there  is  no  part  so 
suitable  as  this  admirable  joining  of  the  limbs  with  the  trunk 
of  the  body,  to  set  forth  'the  joining  together'  and  'the  com- 
pacting' of  the  whole  body  of  the  Church — from  Christ,  in 
Christ,  unto  Christ.  '  The  joints  of  thy  thighs  are  like  jewels, 
the  work  of  the  hands  of  a  cunning  workman';  the  whole 
Church  and  all  its  members  perfectly  joined  together,  the  gem- 
like setting  and  workmanship  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

There  is  another  view  taken  by  many  of  the  text,  which, 
though  outwardly  different,  presents  a  meaning  substantially 
the  same ;  for  the  words  may  be  understood,  not  of  the  joints 
appearing  beneath  the  robes,  but  of  the  girdle  by  which  the 
robes  are  bound. 


412     PORTEAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE's  DAUGHTER.      CHAP.  VII.  !• 

Thy  shoes  with  diamonds  are  bedight; 
Thy  zone  with  pearls  and  rubies  bright, 
Set  by  a  skilful  hand. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

Or  in  the  words  of  Fenner, '  thy  thighes-bande  are  like  brooches 
made  by  hand  of  artificer,  that  is,  the  girdle  called  the  bande 
or  compassing  of  the  thighes,  which  is  pure  truth  framed  by 
the  most  cunning  workman  of  the  Spirit  of  God.'  In  Jesus 
'righteousness  is  the  girdle  of  his  reins;'  in  the  believer  'his 
loins  are  girt  about  with  truth';  and  the  emblem  of  this  jew- 
elled zone  might  be  interpreted  of  pure  truth,  the  workman- 
ship of  the  Spirit.  But  the  girdle  itself  so  naturally  signifies 
the  binding  together  of  the  whole  garments,  that  we  prefer  in 
this  place  to  interpret  it  of  the  uniting  power  of  love,  or  of 
'the  truth  in  love';  which  makes  the  two  interpretations  sub- 
stantially the  same — the  knitting  together  of  all  the  joints,  or 
the  binding  together  of  all  the  garments  in  one. 

And  is  this  indeed  the  body  of  the  Church  thus  compacted 
together,  thus  firm,  united,  vigorous,  with  no  dislocated  limb, 
no  broken  joint,  no  diseased  member?  How  has  it  been 
effected  ?  These  were  all  separate  bones  '  scattered  at  the  grave's 
mouth' — these  members  were  all  'hateful  and  hating  one  an- 
other'— and  eternal  fire  itself  could  never  have  moulded  them 
into  one.  But  'Jesus  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself  for 
it';  and  Jesus  possessed  in  himself  a  glorious  compacted  unity, 
such  as  the  universe  knew  not — the  Father  one  with  the  Word, 
and  the  Word  one  with  the  flesh  with  which  it  dwelt.  This 
Jesus,  this  united  One,  offered  his  own  body,  the  workman- 
ship of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  be  bruised,  till  he  cried,  'AH  my 
bones  are  out  of  joint';  and  he  gave  it  to  the  Church,  saying — 
'  This  is  my  body  broken  for  you.'  Through  his  broken  body 
the  members  of  his  Bride  are  knit  into  one,  and  'the  joints  of 
her  thighs  are  like  jewels,  the  work  of  the  hands  of  a  cunning 
workman.' 

And,  living  soul !  you  well  remember  how  the  word  of  God 
piercing  through  you,  'divided  asunder  the  soul  and  spirit,  the 
joints  and  marrow,'  and  scattered  them  like  the  bones  which 
God  has  broken;  but  Jesus  said  'Take,  eat,  my  body  is  broken 


CHAP.  VII.  2.     THE  GOBLET  THAT  WANTETH  NOT  WINE.     413 

for  you;'  and  your  'joints  became  like  jewels  set  by  a  cunning 
workman/  united,  firm,  beautiful.  Yet,  sometimes  since,  like 
your  father  Jacob,  your  thigh  has  been  out  of  joint  while 
wrestlino;  with  the  Ang-el  of  the  covenant;  and  though  vou 
have  prevailed,  you  have  halted  wearily  on  your  disjointed 
limb.  There  is  also  still  before  you  that  cave  of  earth,  in 
which  the  worms  will  consume  your  flesh,  and  by  whose  open 
mouth  your  bones  may  lie  scattered.  Then  blessed  shall  be 
the  hour  when  Jesus  himself  shall  approach  your  grave,  when 
your  dry  bones  shall  come  together  bone  to  his  bone,  and  when, 
rising  from  the  dead  incorruptible,  in  the  likeness  of  his  glori- 
fied body,  you  will  hear  the  admiring  angels  that  have  been 
guarding  your  tomb  exclaim — 'The  joints  of  thy  thighs  are 
like  jewels,  the  work  of  the  hands  of  a  cunning  workman !' 

THF  GOBLET  THAT  WANTETH  NOT  WINE. 

Thy  navel  \_or  thy  girdle-clasp]  is  like  a  round  goblet  tvhich 
wanteth  not  liquor  [^or  mixed  wine^. — The  first  key  to  this  whole 
description  is  found  in  the  circumstance,  that  its  words  pro- 
ceed from  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem ;  the  second  and  more 
essential  key  in  the  fact,  that  the  dress  of  the  Bride  is  described 
throughout,  except  where  clothing  is  not  worn,  as  on  the  neck 
and  the  faee.  The  proof  of  this  is  ample  and  irresistible  in 
the  very  first  line  of  the  picture — the  feet '  beautiful  with  shoes.' 
The  person  might  have  been  clothed,  while  the  feet  were  un- 
shod; for  the  slumbering  Bride  did  not  say  that  she  had  put 
off  her  shoes,  but  that  she  had  washed  her  feet  and  could  not 
defile  them ;  but  it  was  impossible  that  the  feet  should  be 
beautified  with  the  finest  sandals,  without  the  whole  person 
being  arrayed  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband.  Both  the 
terms,  therefore,  in  this  verse  are  of  necessity  parts  of  dress 
covering  the  corresponding  parts  of  the  person ;  according  with 
the  tendency  in  all  languages  to  transfer  the  names  that  desig- 
nate the  living  body  to  the  dress  that  both  conceals  and  adorns 
it;  and  in  their  costliness  and  beauty  exactly  agreeing  with 
the  apostolic  declaration,  that  'on  our  uncomely  parts  we  be- 
stow more  abundant  comeliness.'     There  is  a  great  agreement 


414      PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRIXCE's  DAUGHTER.      CHAP.  VII.  2. 

of  critics,  as  well  as  obvious  suitableness,  in  interpreting  the 
goblet  of  wine  as  an  image  of  the  clasp  that  secures  the  girdle, 
composed  probably  of  rubies,  to  which  wine  is  often  compared. 

Thy  clasp  is  like  a  goblet  round, 

Of  wine  with  mantling  rubies  crowned. 

Frances. 

The  golden  knot,  which  all  thy  vests 
Firmly  secures  beneath  thy  breasts, 
Like  wine-crowned  goblet  shows. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

What  is  this  well-filled  goblet  of  wine?  'It  is  the  goblet 
to  which  wisdom  invites,  saying,  "Come  drink  of  the  wine 
which  I  have  mingled"  for  you,  and  it  signifies  spiritual  drink' 
(Origen).  It  is  the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom,  drunk  first  by 
the  Church  herself,  and  then  handed  freely  to  the  perishing 
multitudes.  It  is  translated  liquor,'  because  is  it  literally 
'mixture,'  that  is,  wine  ready  for  drinking,  poured  out  and 
mingled,  when  '  wisdom  has  mingled  her  wine  and  furnished 
her  table.'  The  mixture  is  understood  by  many  to  be  of  water, 
which  seems  probable,  as  it  was  common  with  the  ancients  ; 
but  in  the  eighth  chapter  the  wine  is  mingled  with  spices,  and 
wine  mingled  with  water  is  used  in  Scripture  for  injurious 
dilution.  But  whatever  the  mingling  may  be,  the  idea  is,  that 
the  cup  is  full,  and  is  ready  for  the  lips  of  the  invited  guests. 
'Drink,  O  friends!  yea  drink  abundantly,  O  beloved  I'  said  the 
King ;  '  this  cup  is  the  new  testament  in  my  blood,  shed  for 
many  for  the  remission  of  sins ;  drink  ye  all  of  it !'  said  the 
same  Anointed  Messiah.  It  is  wine  and  blood,  wine  resem- 
bling blood,  Avine  betokening  blood ;  blood  instead  of  wine, 
the  King's  blood  in  room  of  richest  and  most  refreshing  wine; 
wine  instead  of  blood,  the  choicest  wine  of  heaven  in  room  of 
our  own  red  blood — this  cup,  the  blood  shed  for  us,  and  in- 
stead of  ours.  After  Jesus  had  given  this  Avine-cup  to  his 
disciples,  and  after  the  intervention  of  the  dark  night  of  sor- 
row, they  'were  filled  with  the  Spirit'  as  with  the  new  wine 
of  the  kingdom.  Then  was  fulfilled  the  prophecy,  'The  Lord 
of  Hosts  shall  defend  them,  and  they  shall  drink  and  make  a 


CHAP.  VII.  2.     THE  GOBLET  THAT  WANTETH  NOT  WINE.      415 

noise  as  through  wine,  and  they  shall  be  filled  like  bowls,  and 
as  the  corners  of  the  altar — for  they  shall  be  as  the  stones  of 
a  crown:  for  how  great  is  his  goodness,  and  how  great  is  his 
beauty !  corn  shall  make  the  young  men  cheerful,  and  new  wine 
the  maids.'  Like  the  corners  of  the  altar,  the  disciples  were 
sprinkled  with  the  blood  of  the  cleansing  sacrifice;  like  bowls 
they  were  filled  with  wine;  and  both  the  blood  and  the  wine 
were  like  the  '  stones  of  a  crown,'  the  ruby  stones  that  studded 
a  royal  diadem.  The  Bride's  girdle-clasp  is  like  that  rubied 
crown,  and  like  the  blood-filled  corner  of  the  altar;  and  the 
wine-filled  bowl  is  this  ^goblet  that  wanteth  not  wine.'  The 
'corn  that  maketh  the  young  men  cheerful'  is  none  other  than 
'the  heap  of  wheat  set  about  with  lilies;'  and  the  round  goblet 
is  filled  with  'the  new  wine  that  maketh  cheerful  the  maids.' 
The  resemblance  was  so  great,  that  as  soon  as  the  bride  came 
forth  as  the  Prince's  daughter  with  her  'feet  shod  with  the 
gospel  of  peace,'  the  mockers  immediately  said,  'these  men  are 
full  of  new  wine';  and  filled  with  new  wine  they  were,  but  it 
was  'the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom,'  that  inebriated  not,  but 
gladdened  with  overflowing  joys.  The  Spirit  of  God  himself 
takes  up  the  image  again,  and  commands,  'Be  not  drunk  with 
wine,  but  be  filled  with  the  Spirit.' 

But  this  'goblet  that  wanted  not  wine'  being  first  put  to  her 
own  lips,  was  freely  handed  to  others;  and  this  made  the  no- 
ble daughter  of  the  Prince  so  lovely  in  the  eyes  of  the  inquiring 
daughters  of  Jerusalem.  'Freely  she  had  received,  and  freely 
she  gave.'  'Repent,'  she  said  'and  be  baptized  for  the  re- 
mission of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive  the  Holy  Ghost' — ye  also 
shall  drink  out  of  this  full  wine-cup — ye  also  shall  rejoice  in 
the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom.  Reader!  have  you  tasted  this 
wine;  have  your  lips  touched  this  wine-cup;  have  you  known 
the  free  remission  of  sins  through  the  red  blood  of  Jesus  Christ; 
have  you  known  the  reviving  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
bright  wine  of  'the  kingdom  of  God  which  is  not  meat  and 
drink,  but  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost'? 
If  not,  you  have  never  tasted  sweetness — you  are  still  a  stranger 
to  gladness. 


416      PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PEINCE's  DAUGHTER.      CHAP.  VH.  2. 
THE   WHEAT   RAILED    ROUND   WITH   LILIES, 

Thy  belly  [or  vesture]  is  like  a  heap  of  wheat  set  about  with 
lilies. — To  the  dress  undoubtedly  the  description  belongs,  and 
some  have  referred  it  to  the  embroidered  figures  on  the  rich 
attire : — 

Embroidered  on  thy  vesture  fine, 
Tall  sheaves  of  ripened  corn  entwine 
With  lilies  of  the  vale. 

Grad.  of  Oxf. 

For  this,  however,  there  is  scarcely  warrant,  and  certainly  no 
necessity.  The  description  tallies  exactly  with  that  of  the 
forty-fifth  Psalm,  of  which  this  Song  is  universally  allowed  to 
be  an  inspired  enlargement.  In  that  Psalm,  the  two  com- 
ponent parts  of  the  Bride's  attire  are  gold  and  needlework ; 
wrought  gold  forming  the  main  texture  of  the  raiment,  for  it 
is  twice  repeated — 'upon  thy  right  hand  did  stand  the  queen 
in  gold  of  Ophir,'  and  'her  clothing  is  of  wrought  gold;'  white 
needlework  forming  the  overhanging  drajDery  of  the  dress,  or 
rather  its  girdle  of  fine  linen,  for  it  is  added  'she  shall  be 
brought  unto  the  King  in  raiment  of  needlework.'  The  gir- 
dle of  Eastern  ladies,  when  not  composed  of  precious  stones, 
'is  of  exquisite  embroidery  on  satin,  and  fastened  before  with 
a  clasp  of  diamonds'  (Harmer).  These  delineations  of  the 
Psalm  are  in  substance  the  very  same  as  the  description  be- 
fore us  ;  for  the  one  distinguishing  epithet  of  ripe  wheat  is  that 
it  is  'golden,'  and  the  white  needlework  agrees  exactly  with 
the  white  lilies.  We  have,  then,  in  the  Psalm  a  golden  dress 
girded  with  fine  linen  curiously  wrought;  and  we  have  in  the 
Song  this  golden  texture  likened  to  a  heaj)  of  ripe  wheat,  and 
this  fine  linen  to  'a  railing  of  lilies,'  as  in  some  of  our  old 
translations,  or  a  'setting  about  with  lilies'  as  in  ours.  The 
Psalm  describes  the  dress  as  it  was  supposed  to  appear — gold 
and  white;  the  Song,  according  to  its  character,  transfers  these 
into  images  of  wheat  and  lilies ;  wheat,  it  may  be,  in  sheaves 
in  the  field  with  lilies  growing  round  it — or  rather  wheat 
threshed  out,  piled  into  a  heap,  and  decorated  with  lilies  in 
token  of  harvest  joy. 


CHAP.  Vir.  2.    THE  WHEAT  RAILED  ROUXD  WITH  LILIES.    417 

Now,  this  wheat  is  immediately  associated  with  the  wine- 
cup,  for  'corn  shall  make  the  young  men  cheerful,  and  new 
wine  the  maids.'  Jesus  Christ  alone  is  '  the  finest  of  the  wheat,' 
for  he  is  *  the  Bread  of  life,  of  which  if  a  man  eat  he  shall  never 
die,'  and  by  eating  which  we  have  not  merely  life,  but  life  more 
abundantly.  It  seems  but  'a  handful  of  corn  in  the  earth,'  it 
is  'cast  into  the  ground  and  dieth,'  but,  springing  up,  it  bring- 
eth  forth  much  fruit,  shaking  like  the  trees  on  Lebanon  vvdth 
a  most  abundant  harvest.  Christ's  '  broken  body '  is  a  vast 
heap  of  golden  wheat  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  hunger  of  perish- 
ing millions;  a  heap  out  of  which  'a  company  that  no  man 
can  number'  have  been  fed  and  satisfied,  and  are  living  for 
ever;  unto  which  crowds  are  at  this  hour  coming  'out  of  all 
nations  and  kindreds  and  tongues ';  yet  there  is  enough  for  all, 
and  no  diminution  of  the  heap.  Nay,  rather  it  is  greatly  en- 
larged; not  in  itself,  for  that  could  not  be,  but  to  the  wants 
of  men;  like  the  five  barley  loaves,  which,  after  feeding  the 
five  thousand,  filled  twelve  baskets  instead  of  one.  '  The  wheat,' 
said  one  of  the  Greek  fathers,  'signifies  spiritual  food,  and  the 
heap  denotes  the  harmonious  gathering  into  one,  of  a  multi- 
tude of  virtues'  (Origen).  It  is  a  heap  of  rij)e  wheat  without 
the  least  mixiwre  of  chaff,  without  one  imperfect  grain  in  it 
all ;  every  deed,  every  word,  every  thought  of  Jesus  Christ  a 
rich  ripe  grain  of  finest  wheat,  and  all  gathered  together  by 
the  hand  of  the  Great  Husbandman  into  one  vast  heap  of  pure 
and  precious  food  for  dying  men. 

A  heap  of  wheat  'set  about  with  lilies' — not  locked  within 
a  granary,  and  accessible  only  to  the  jealous  possessor — not 
surrounded  with  lofty  walls,  to  be  scaled  only  by  men  of 
strength — not  hedged  about  with  thorns,  to  be  penetrated  only 
by  men  of  courage — not  set  forth  in  a  petty  sample,  to  be  sold 
to  the  highest  purchaser — but  the  vast  golden  heap  openly  ex- 
posed in  the  sight  of  all,  and  most  attractively  '  railed  round ' 
with  lilies — excluding  none,  but  inviting  young  and  old,  rich 
and  poor,  without  exception.  Beside  it  stands  the  Great  Hus- 
bandman himself,  inviting,  yea  beseeching  all — '  Come  ye,  and 
he  that  hath  no  money,  come !  wherefore  do  ye  spend  money 
for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  your  labour  for  that  which 


418      PORTE  AIT  OF  THE  PRINCE's  DAUGHTER.      CHAP.  VII.  2. 

satisfieth  not  ?  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  de- 
light itself  in  fatness !' 

This  is  Christ ;  but  how  is  this  the  Prince's  daughter  ?  Be- 
cause it  is  she  that  sets  forth  Christ  and  him  crucified  to  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem,  Christ  crucified  as  the  bread  of  life. 
Because  she  '  bears  about  in  herself  continually  '  the  dying  of 
the  Lord  Jesus/  bound  around  her  as  a  girdle,  and  the  wine- 
cup  of  his  blood,  like  a  glorious  girdle-clasp  that  unites  and 
adorns  all  her  raiment.  And  in  like  manner,  '  putting  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  she  bears  ever  about  with  her  as  her  golden 
vesture  the  '  broken  body '  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  which  is  '  living 
bread ' — a  heap  of  golden  wheat,  the  source  of  her  own  life, 
and  the  life  which  she  sets  forth  freely  for  the  dying ;  carry- 
ing it  not  secretly  but  ojDcnly  ;  as  if  displayed  by  all  her  ap- 
parel, visible  in  all  her  conversation. 

And  what  are  these  lilies  that  surround  the  wheat?  'As  a 
lily  among  thorns,  so  is  my  love  among  the  daughters' — they 
are  the  redeemed  souls  whose  '  robes  are  made  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb,'  the  virgins  that  follow  and  encompass 
him.  They  are  all  gathered  round  about  that  one  heap  of 
heaven's  finest  wheat;  every  one  of  them  has  been  plucked  by 
Christ's  own  hand  from  among  the  thorns  in  the  wilderness, 
and  planted  in  a  brilliant  circle  round  this  harvest  heap.  Like 
as  the  first  Christian  converts  gathered  all  they  had  together 
into  one  central  heap,  out  of  which  all  freely  shared,  so  they 
were  gathered  round  the  broken  body  of  Christ,  '  continuing 
in  the  breaking  of  bread.'  Around  that  store  of  living  bread 
there  circled  a  row  of  lilies — '  harmless  as  doves,  gentle  as 
lambs ';  yet  an  awful  glorious  hedge  it  formed,  '  for  of  the 
rest  durst  no  man  join  himself  to  them,  but  the  people  magni- 
fied them.'  AVhosoever  willed,  if  first  coming  to  Jesus,  might 
be  numbered  with  those  lilies,  being  also  like  them;  but  through 
'  the  thin  white  line '  of  lilies  that  encompassed  the  wheat, 
none  dared  to  penetrate  in  order  to  trample  it  down.  Friend! 
are  you  one  of  the  lilies  that  encircle  that  wheat?  are  you  pure 
and  harmless,  like  those  lilies?  and  is  your  station  always 
close  to  the  Bread  of  heaven  that  giveth  life  to  the  world? 


CHAP.  VII.  3,  4.  THE   TWIX    ROES.  419 


THE  TWIN   ROES 


Thy  two  breasts  are  like  two  young  roes  that  are  twins. — These 
twin  roes  we  have  considered  already  in  the  Spotless  Bride, 
taking  them  to  be  faith  and  love;  and  have  only  further  to 
remark,  that  the  two  descriptions  of  the  King's  Bride  and  of 
the  Prince's  daughter  now  meet ;  the  accounts  of  the  Church 
derived  from  heaven  and  from  earth,  the  portraits  drawn  from 
the  feet  upward  and  the  head  downward,  here  unite  together. 
The  first  of  these  twins  that  attracts  observation  in  heaven  is 
faith  looking  upward,  and  piercing  the  unseen  with  more  than 
the  penetration  of  the  roe's  far-seeing  eye;  but  it  is  never  seen 
without  its  twin-born  sister  love,  looking  on  earth  with  more 
than  the  gentleness  of  the  eye  of  the  roe.  The  first  of  the 
twins  that  is  observed  on  earth  is  love,  love  to  the  brethren, 
love  to  all  men;  but  it  is  never  discovered  without  its  fellow- 
twin  beside  it,  faith  God-ward  through  Jesus  Christ.  Seen  by 
Jesus  Christ,  the  two  breasts  of  the  Church  are  twins,  faith 
and  love;  seen  by  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  they  are  the 
same  twins,  love  and  faith  ;  and,  admiring  the  love,  they  learn 
to  respect  the  faith  from  which  it  flows. 


THE  TOWER  OF   IVORY. 


Thy  neck  is  as  a  tower  of  ivory. — The  neck  erect,  but  not 
haughty,  is  the  scriptural  emblem  for  holy  freedom,  as  we  have 
already  noted;  and  in  Christ's  description  of  the  neck,  strength 
and  victory  are  combined  with  liberty;  for  the  stately  tower 
is  'David's',  beautiful  in  its  strength,  and  hung  over  with 
commemorative  trophies.  The  holy  freedom  of  the  Churh  is 
equally  before  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem;  for  Hhe  captive 
daughter  of  Zion  has  shaken  herself  from  the  dust,  and  loosed 
herself  from  the  bands  of  her  neck.'  But  the  next  idea  in 
their  minds  is  not  strength  and  conquest,  but  beauty,  snowy 
whiteness — 'thy  neck  is  as  a  tower  of  ivory.'  And  why?  because 
when  the  once  free  and  glorious  Bride  had  been  captive  to  sin 
and  Satan,  a  slave  in  strange  vineyards,  her  sun-scorched  skin 
had  become  black  as  the  Ethiopian's,  and  she  had  owned  it 
Al 


420      PORTEAIT  OF  THE  PRIISCE's  DAUGHTER.     CHAP.  VII.  4. 

before  them — 'I  am  black,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  for 
the  sun  hath  looked  ou  me.'  Stooping  in  the  vineyards,  her 
neck,  erewhile  both  free  and  spotless,  would  most  of  all  be 
exposed  to  the  burning  rays,  and  be  stained  with  deepest  black, 
like  the  dark  goat-skins  of  the  tents  of  Kedar.  The  daughters 
of  Jerusalem,  beholding  her  now,  can  see  no  deformity,  no 
discolouring,  no  tents  of  Kedar,  nought  but  the  snowy  curtains 
of  Solomon.  Selecting,  therefore,  the  once  darkest  feature  of 
all,  the  chained  and  sun-branded  neck,  they  exclaim — '  thy  n^ck 
is  like  a  tower  of  ivory'!  lofty,  noble,  and  erect  as  a  tower — ■ 
white  as  the  polished  ivory.  Lord !  '  purge  me  with  hyssop, 
and  I  shall  be  clean — wash  me,  and  1  shall  be  whiter  than 
snow' ! 

THE  FISH-POOLS  OF  HESHBON. 

Thine  eyes  are  like  the  fish-pools  iu  Heshbon,  by  the  gate  of 
Bath-rabbim. — Heshbon  was  a  celebrated  city  beyond  the  Jor- 
dan, and  the  royal  residence  of  Sihon  king  of  the  Amorites, 
previous  to  its  conquest  by  Israel.  These  fish-pools  are  un- 
known ;  and  so  is  this  gate  of  Bath-rabbim,  but  it  means,  the 
daughter  of  a  multitude.  This  may  signify,  that  the  beautiful 
fish-ponds  of  Heshbon  were  close  by  a  crowded  gateway  of 
that  city;  but  it  is  better  to  understand  Bath-rabbim  of  Jeru- 
salem with  its  teeming  multitudes,  and  then  it  is  as  if  the  clear 
lake  of  Heshbon  were  in  the  midst  of  the  thronged  streets  of 
Jerusalem.  The  meaning  is  well  given  by  Fenner — 'fish- 
pooles  in  broad-gate  fay  re  thine  eyes.'  And  mark  again  the 
nice  distinction  in  the  portrait ;  for  it  is  no  longer  the  doves' 
eyes  which  the  King  describes  as  waiting  and  looking  on  Him, 
but  the  placid  eyes  that  are  looked  upon,  as  a  quiet  lake,  by 
the  admiring  daughters  of  Jerusalem. 

The  image  indicates  that  the  eyes,  like  the  pools,  are  clear, 
deep,  quiet,  full.  They  were  clear,  reflecting  the  brightness 
of  the  blue  heavens  above — the  image  of  God — the  glory  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  believer,  '  beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory 
of  the  Lord,  is  transformed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory 
to  glory  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.'     Bearing  this  im- 


CHAP.  VII.  4.      THE   FISH-POOLS   OF   HESHBON,  421 

age,  he  presents  it  to  all  men  to  look  upon,  and  learn  what  is 
in  God  himself.  To  heaven  men  will  not  look,  for  their  eyes 
are  ever  set  earthward,  and  except  what  meets  them  on  the 
earth  they  see  not.  How  good  it  is  that  before  them  on  the 
earth  they  should  see  spread  out  this  bright  blue  lake,  and 
behold  therein  the  beauty  of  that  heaven  to  which  they  will 
not  turn  their  regards !  Even  if  at  any  time  they  gaze  upward, 
from  the  place  where  they  stand  they  see  only  clouds  and  dark- 
ness above  them,  and  soon  turn  their  eye  downward  again  on 
objects  less  gloomy  and  awful.  But  above  the  spot  where  the 
child  of  God  stands,  the  clouds  have  divided  and  the  heavens 
have  opened;  the  sun  is  shedding  down  his  bright  soft  beams 
upon  the  lake  of  Heshbou,  and  there,  as  in  a  mirror,  the  world 
may  see  the  hidden  glory  that  fills  the  upper  sanctuary. 

Those  pools  were  also  deep;  and  how  suddenly  and  com- 
pletely changed  are  the  shallow  thoughts  of  the  man  of  earth, 
in  the  hour  when  he  becomes  an  heir  of  heaven!  what  a  depth 
is  now  in  his  views,  in  his  eyes,  like  deep  water-pools.  How 
shallow  are  the  deepest  thoughts  of  all  '  who  mind  earthly 
things' — how  short  the  longest  line  of  all  their  wisdom — how 
soon  it  reaches  the  muddy  bottom,  and  either  stirs  up  the  mire 
or  is  entangled  in  the  oozy  weeds!  But  the  'thoughts  of  God 
ore  a  great  deep,'  and  the  shallowest  mind  of  man  that  comes 
into  union  with  that  clear  unfathomable  depth  becomes  itself 
a  clear  bright  water-pool — the  beauty  of  which  every  man  may 
behold,  while  its  depth  no  man  can  fathom,  for  'he  that  is 
spiritual  is  discerned  of  no  man.'  He  is  not  discerned  even 
by  himself,  in  all  the  full  caverns  of  the  deep  well  of  life  that 
is  now  within  him;  for  'God,  who  searcheth  the  heart,'  alone 
'knoweth  Avhat  is  the  mind  of  the  Spirit'  within  the  child  of 
God.  'As  the  deep  fish-pools  of  Heshbon  are  thine  eyes,  O 
Prince's  daughter!'  nor  are  those  vacant  depths,  but  full.  As 
the  pool  is  neither  encumbered  nor  disturbed,  but  replenished, 
with  its  living  yet  hidden  shoals  of  fish ;  so  are  those  deep  eyes 
filled  with  a  multitude  of  thoughts,  living  and  precious,  which 
delight  and  enrich  the  soul. 

But  further,  those  deep  pools  are  quiet  and  calm ;  for  it  is 
not  the  deep  ocean  with  its  waves,  nor  the  deej)  river  with  its 


422         PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRIXCe's  DAUGHTER.    CHAP.  VII.  4. 

stream,  but  the  deejj  fish-pool  with  its  calm  unruffled  surface. 
Neither  are  they  as  the  eyes  of  hermits  in  the  wilderness,  or 
in  the  secluded  convent,  but  they  are  in  the  gate  of  Bath- 
rabbim,  'in  broad-gate  fayre,'  in  the  thoroughfare  of  incessant 
concourse,  in  'the  high  places  of  the  city.'  Thus  was  it  when 
the  Prince's  daughter  first  appeared  in  all  her  beauty;  Jeru- 
salem, filled  always  with  her  own  myriads,  was  then  overflow- 
ing with  a  multitude  of  Jews  out  of  every  nation  under  hea- 
ven ;  yet  how  calm  and  untroubled  was  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb! 
In  the  midst  of  the  innumerable  throng,  in  the  tumult  of  al- 
most countless  tongues,  what  an  unruffled  aspect  did  she  pre- 
sent in  the  gate  of  Bath-rabbi m — 'continuing  steadfastly  in 
prayer,  eating  bread  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart 
praising  God,  with  great  fear  on  every  soul,  with  great  grace 
ufjon  all,  and  the  multitude  of  them  that  believed  of  one  heart 
and  one  soul !'  Even  in  the  outward  eye  of  the  heir  of  heaven, 
the  placid,  peaceful,  pensive  eye  of  the  child  of  hope,  in  con- 
trast to  the  keen  eye  of  the  covetous  or  the  fool's  eye  in  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  there  is  rest  and  refreshing,  to  him  who 
looks  upon  this  quiet  well  of  water  by  the  city  gate.  Yet 
often  alas!  we  miss  it,  where  we  hope  to  find  it.  'How  beauti- 
ful are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  O  Prince's  daughter!'  we  have 
once  and  again  exclaimed  in  the  gate  of  Bath-rabbim  ;  in  the 
ceaseless  throng  of  our  vast  metropolis  we  have  greatly  ad- 
mired the  Bride  of  Jesus  shod  with  the  gosjDcl  of  peace,  and 
ready  to  every  good  work.  But  we  have  sometimes  been 
tempted  to  say,  'One  thing  thou  lackest';  would  that  in  this 
gate  of  Bath-rabbim  'thine  eyes  were.'  also,  'like  the  fish-pools 
of  Heshbon !'  Yet  even  there  it  is  found ;  and  the  most '  beauti- 
ful feet  with  shoes,'  that  through  its  darkest  lanes  are  shining 
with  the  pearls  of  the  ^yord  of  life,  will  be  ovmed  as  carrying 
also  those  eyes  'that  are  like  the  fish-pools  of  Heshbon  by  the 
gate  of  Bath-rabbim.' 

Serene  as  Heshbon's  tranquil  lake, 
Thy  meditative  eyes  forsake 

The  world's  distracting  joys. 
Beside  its  -well-storerl  waters  clear, 
The  city's  crowded  gates  appear, 
But  nought  its  calm  desjtroys. —  Grad.  of  Oxf. 


CHAP.  VII.  4.         THE   TOWEE   OF   LEBAjSOX.  423 

THE   TOWER   OF    LEBANON-. 

Thy  nose  \or  face]  is  as  the  tower  of  Lebanon ,  which  looheth 
toward  Damascus. — This  is  obviously  no  palace  of  Solomon's  in 
the  forest  of  Lebanon,  but  the  watch-tower  of  a  border  fortress, 
looking  toward  the  hostile  and  restless  kingdom  of  Damascus. 
Such  a  watch-tower  is  a  fit  image  of  the  bold  undaunted  face 
of  the  Prince's  daughter,  for  the  word  equally  signifies  either 
nose  or  face,  and  is  here  rendered  face  by  one  of  the  best  trans- 
lators (Diodati).  'I  have  set  my  face  like  a  flint,'  said  the 
great  Bridegroom  in  the  days  of  his  flesh  ;  and  to  his  Bride  he 
promised,  'Behold  I  have  made  thy  face  strong  against  their 
faces,  and  thy  forehead  strong  against  their  foreheads;  be  not 
dismayed  at  their  faces,  for  I  have  made  thee  a  defenced  city, 
and  an  iron  pillar,  and  brazen  walls,  against  the  whole  land.' 
Nothing  can  be  more  remarkable  than  the  contrast  between 
the  face  of  the  Bride  as  seen  from  heaven  and  seen  from  earth 
— by  Jesus,  and  by  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem.  Toward  Him, 
her  face  was  filled  with  holy  shame  and  confusion — 'like  a 
piece  of  pomegranate  are  thy  temples  within  thy  locks;'  but 
in  their  eyes,  and  toward  all  the  world,  her  face  stood  firm  like 
a  flint,  like  a  mountain  watch-tower  ready  for  every  foe,  erect 
and  immovable  like  a  turret  on  a  rock.  Exactly  such  a  spec- 
tacle did  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  behold  in  the  Bride,  when  . 
the  great  council  of  the  ruler-s  '  marvelled  at  the  boldness  of 
Peter  and  John,'  at  their  flint-like  faces,  as  the  tower  of  Leba- 
non looking  on  Damascus.  Yet  these  two  features  combine 
in  one  beauteous  countenance,  and  each  loses  much  or  the 
whole  of  its  loveliness  in  the  absence  of  the  other.  Without 
the  blushing  pomegranate  within  the  locks,  the  noble  tower 
of  Lebanon  is  no  better  than  a  brow  of  brass ;  and  without 
the  turret  defying  Damascus,  the  crimson  temples  may  be  but 
the  brand  of  the  fearful  and  unbelieving,  who  are  ashamed  to 
confess  Christ  before  men  on  earth,  and  whom  he  will  be 
ashamed  to  confess  before  his  Father  in  heaven.  Blessed  art 
thou,  O  Prince's  daughter,  who  hast  both  the  deepest  shame 
before  thy  God,  and  the  boldest  front  to  all  his  foes ! 

But  while  the  term  may  thus  be  understood  of  the  face, 


424        PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE'S  DAUGHTER.    CHAP.  VII.  4. 

there  is  no  difficulty  in  applying  it  also  to  the  nose;  because 
each  enters  into  the  other,  and  the  view  we  have  taken  of  de- 
termined courage  pertains  equally  to  both.  Quick  discern- 
ment, however,  is  characteristic  only  of  the  one,  and  to  this 
much  prominence  is  given  by  the  earliest  expositors.  ^  He  who 
hath  a  holy  breath,  and  by  perception  of  the  divine  Avord  can 
run  to  the  odour  of  His  ointments,  hath  a  nose  discerning 
spiritual  fragrance'  (Origen).  Perception  of  holy  fragrance 
and  heavenly  incense  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  smoke  from 
the  bottomless  abyss  on  the  other,  pertains  to  the  perfection  of 
such  a  sense — 'exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil.' 
Many  a  time  by  such  quickness  of  spiritual  discernment,  with- 
out any  outward  token  to  reveal  it  and  when  duller  spirits 
least  suspected  it,  has  the  Prince's  daughter  discovered  the 
welcome  approach  of  Him  '  whose  Name  is  Ointment  poured 
forth,'  has  run  after  him,  has  brought  him  home  with  joy  to  her 
mother's  house,  or  has  by  him  been  brought  into  his  banquet- 
ing-house  where  waves  the  banner  of  his  love.  Many  a  time 
again,  like  the  watcher  on  the  tower  of  Lebanon,  has  she  dis- 
covered unexpected  danger  from  a  little  spark  smouldering  as 
a  hidden  fire,  yet  connected  with  the  flames  beneath,  and  set 
on  fire  of  hell.  Even  as  in  the  endangered  ship  on  the  ocean, 
the  quick  sense  of  a  single  observer  has  discovered  the  latent 
fire  which  all  others  disbelieved,  and  has  saved  both  the  vessel 
and  the  precious  lives  within  it ;  so  the  man  of  God  with  senses 
exercised  to  discern,  has  discovered  the  first  faint  traces  of  a 
great  flame  which  Satan  with  fiery  darts  was  endeavouring  to 
kindle — in  his  own  heart  first  and  oftenest,  then  in  the  family, 
or  in  the  Church,  and  through  grace  has  been  enabled  to 
quench  the  smoke  before  it  had  risen  into  flame.  This  dis- 
cernment both  of  good  and  evil  is  invaluable;  it  is  true  god- 
like knowledge  of  both,  by  immediate  teaching  and  divinely- 
given  intelligence.  If  thou  hast  been  gifted  from  above  with 
such  a  sense,  despise  it  not,  disown  it  not,  disuse  it  not,  but 
exercise  it  for  thine  own  profit  and  the  profit  of  many  ;  and  be 
not  driven  from  thine  own  post  on  Lebanon's  watch-tower, 
nor  disheartened  from  using  thy  divine  discernment,  because 
other  spirits  can  perceive  no  approaching  yet  haply  passing 
friend,  or  can  discover  no  insidiously  assaulting  foe. 


CHAP.  VII.  5.  CABMEL.  425 

Thy  features  in  proportion  fair 
With  lofty  watch-tower  may  compare, 

That  marks  approaching  foes : 
Ev'n  so  discretion's  practised  eye, 
To  choose  the  good,  the  bad  to  fly, 

With  nice  discernment  shows. — Grad.  of  Oxf. 


CAEMEL. 

Thine  head  upon  thee  is  like  Carmel. — It  is  not  the  head  itself 
of  the  Bride,  but  the  'head  that  is  upon  her';  not  the  head 
that  belongs  to  the  body,  but  the  head  that  rests  upon  that 
head,  the  head-dress,  the  bridal  chaplet,  the  marriage  coronet. 
This  completes  the  glorious  attire,  from  the  costly  shoes  upon 
the  feet  to  the  crowning  diadem  of  beauty,  and  adds  another 
proof  that  the  whole  description  is  of  the  raiment  that  covers 
the  members  from  head  to  foot.  The  King  is  compared  to 
the  dazzling  majesty  of  the  lofty  Lebanon,  and  the  Prince's 
daughter  now  to  the  beautiful  Carmel;  her  head  like  the  lovely 
hill  itself,  her  crown  like  the  forests,  the  vines,  the  olives,  the 
corn,  and  the  luxuriant  herbage  with  which  it  was  covered — 
'  the  excellency  of  Carmel.' 

'  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteous- 
ness,' said  the  noble  Paul — not  the  meanest  representative  of 
the  Prince's  daughter — 'and  not  for  me  only,  but  for  all  them 
also  that  love  his  appearing.'  But  had  he  no  crown  of  right- 
eousness already? — yes,  for  'the  righteousness  of  God  by  faith 
of  Jesus  Christ  is  unto  all  and  upon  all  them  that  believe';  it 
was  upon  him,  adorning  him  even  now,  and  rendering  him  'a 
king  and  a  priest  unto  God.'  But  that  which  most  of  all  he 
possessed  was  what  most  of  all  he  sought  to  obtain — he  ran 
that  'he  might  be  partaker  of  the  gospel' — he  strove  'that  he 
might  win  Christ  and  be  found  in  him,  not  having  his  own 
righteousness,  but  the  righteousness  of  God  by  faith.'  This 
crown,  therefore,  the  Church  already  wears,  while  she  must 
also  strive  to  '  let  no  man  take  it,'  but  that  she  may  receive  it 
as  her  own  for  ever.  It  is  a  crown  like  Carmel — for  to  Je- 
hovah's King  it  is  promised  that  'upon  him  shall  his  crown 
flourish,'  not  a  crown  of  plucked  and  withering  leaves,  but  liv- 


426        PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE's  DAUGHTER.    CHAP.  VII.  5. 

ing  and  flourishing  for  ever;  not  a  crown  of  dead  gold,  branched 
and  budded  by  the  craftsmau,  but  a  growing  and  flourishing 
crown,  lasting  as  gold,  but  fresh  as  living  laurels  on  his  brow. 
So  it  is,  likewise,  with  his  Bride  the  Church,  for  her  crown  is 
'a  crown  of  life':  the  crown  is  life  and  the  crown  is  liviuer,  be- 
cause  it  is  'a  crown  that  fadeth  not  away,'  that  withereth  not 
like  the  wreaths  of  laurels,  or  olives,  or  other  green  leaves, 
with  which  both  victors  and  brides  were  crowned.  Such  a 
crown  she  is  here  represented  as  wearing ;  and  whether  we  look 
to  the  spiritual,  now  present,  or  to  the  eternal  future,  'her 
head  is  like  Carrael.'  From  its  oaks,  its  pines,  its  olives,  its 
vines,  and  its  myrtles,  a  garland  is  woven  for  the  Prince's 
daughter;  but  it  is  a  growing  garland,  with  root  and  with  life 
that  shall  flourish  like  Carmel  for  ever. 

There  is  another  coronet  ascribed  to  the  Church,  in  the  crown 
of  ransomed  souls;  for  the  apostle  Paul  addresses  those  who 
had  received  the  truth  through  his  ministry — 'ye  are  my  crown 
in  the  day  of  the  Lord ;'  and  a  similar  idea  is  expressed  by 
Solomon  when  he  says  that  'children's  children  are  the  crown 
of  old  men.'  In  the  day  of  Pentecost,  such  a  crown  richly 
adorned  the  brow  of  the  Bride;  'the  corn  of  wheat  cast  into 
the  ground  had  died  and  was  bringing  forth  much  fruit ;  the 
fields  were  white  already,  the  handful  of  corn  on  the  top  of  the 
mountains  was  waving  with  a  plenteous  harvest,  and  the  la- 
bourers who  had  so  lately  gone  forth  weeping  were  returning 
bearing  their  sheaves  with  them.'  But  the  corn  of  Carmel 
Avas  proverbial  for  its  abundance;  and,  like  Carmel  crowned 
with  its  waving  harvest,  so  was  the  Church  encompassed  and 
beautified  with  a  harvest  of  saved  souls,  to  be  her  '  crown  of  re- 
joicing in  the  day  of  the  Lord.' 

THE  PURPLE. 

And  the  hair  of  thine  head  like  purple. — On  account,  perhaps, 
of  the  difficulty  in  the  comparison  to  purple,  some  of  our  old 
translators  have  rendered  it  'head-fillet'  instead  of  hair;  but 
the  '  purple '  does  not  necessarily  ascribe  that  colour  to  the 
hair,  because  the  term  was  anciently  applied  to  whatever  was 


ciiAP.  VII.  5.  THE  i'ur„PLE.  427 

oxtromely  rich  and  splendid,  and  to  hair  remarkable  for  beauty. 
But  besides  the  richness  and  glossy  brightness  of  the  locks, 
the  purple  has  probably  reference  to  the  royal  rank  of  the 
Bride — followed  especially  as  it  is  immediately  by  mention  of 
the  King;  and  the  whole  describes  such  hair  as  became  4he 
Queen'  who  was  'clothed  in  gold  of  Ophir.'  It  is  also  still 
to  be  remarked  that — while  the  locks  are  the  same  as  the  King 
has  twice  compared  to  'the  flock  of  goats  on  Gilead/  even 
when  in  the  last  description  he  had  called  her  '  terrible  as  an 
army  with  banners' — such  images  as  the  long  locks  of  sub- 
jection are  never  employed  except  by  the  King  himself.  The 
same  hair  which  he  compares  to  the  '  flock  of  goats/  the  daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem  liken  to  the  royal  'purple.' 

But  as  the  royal  purple  covering  the  King's  chariot — the 
purple  robe  worn  by  Jesus — is  dyed  in  his  own  blood,  so  in 
measure  he  gave  to  his  Bride  to  drink  of  the  cup  of  which  he 
drank  himself;  and  the  import  of  the  expression  is  clearly 
brought  out  only  by  reference  to  the  Pentecostal  Church. 
"When  'her  head  was  like  Carmel,'  crowned  with  a  waving 
harvest  of  ransomed  souls,  then  also  her  hair  was  like  purple; 
for,  when  the  number  of  'disciples  multiplied  in  Jerusalem 
greatly,'  the  adversaries  of  the  Lord  could  endure  it  no  longer, 
but  dragged  the  holy  Stephen  to  the  council  and  to  death. 
Then  his  head  also  was  filled  with  the  drops  of  the  night,  and 
his  hair  was  bathed  in  his  own  blood  when  stone  descended 
after  stone  and  drew  forth  the  purple  streams  that  dyed  his 
locks,  to  be  followed  soon  after  by  the  blood  flowing  from  the 
head  of  the  martyr  James,  and  by  a  great  persecution  of  all 
the  Church.  '  The  crown  of  martyrdom '  such  a  death  has 
commonly  been  called,  and  very  beautiful  were  those  purple 
locks  in  the  eyes  of  admiring  witnesses,  sorrowing  yet  rejoicing. 

In  this  connexion  'the  holding  of  the  King  in  the  galleries,' 
which  immediately  follows,  is  most  interesting;  for  it  is  gener- 
ally acknowledged  to  have  more  special  reference  to  '  the  pur- 
ple hair,'  as  if  those  locks  had  bound  him.  While  we  would 
stand  at  the  furthest  extreme  from  limiting  the  presence  of  the 
King  to  his  personal  manifestation,  yet  to  that  manifestation 
a  special  glory  attaches,  and  throughout  the  Song  it  is  strongly 


428      PORTRAIT  OF  THE  PRINCE's  DAUGHTER.      CHAP.  VII.  5. 

marked.  Now  the  last  time  that  admiring  witnesses  could 
ever  declare  in  this  sense  that  Hhe  King  was  held  in  the  gal- 
leries/ was,  when  for  the  first  time  the  hair  of  the  Bride  be- 
came purple  with  her  own  blood.  Once  after  this  he  appears 
to  Saul  of  Tarsus,  but  then  it  is  not  in  silent  and  delighted 
detention  by  the  beauty  of  the  Bride,  but  in  direct  address  to 
a  bitter  adversary  whom  he  draws  to  himself.  But  when  the 
hair  of  the  Prince's  daughter  is  about  to  be  made  bright  with 
the  royal  purple  of  her  own  blood,  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem 
hear  Stephen  exclaim,  'Behold,  I  see  the  heavens  opened,  and 
the  Son  of  Man  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God!' — the 
King  held  fast  in  the  upper  galleries  of  his  house  by  the  beauty 
of  the  Bride  in  the  courts  below.  They  see  not  the  King 
themselves,  and  they  say  not  that  they  see  him,  for  they  ad- 
dress him  not;  but  they  know  that  he  is  appearing  to  the 
Prince's  daughter,  and  is  standing  as  if  bound  in  the  galleries 
of  heaven,  and  looking  intently  on  earth.  They  know  also 
that  he  is  still  detained  there,  for  the  last  words  of  the  Bride 
with  her  now  purple  locks  are,  'Lord  Jesus,  receive  ray  spirit!' 

THE  GALLERIES. 

The  King  is  held  in  the  galleries. — 'The  King,'  said  the  Bride, 
'hath  brought  me  into  his  chambefs;'  into  his  inmost  sanctuary, 
the  secret  of  his  pavilion,  the  closest  communion  of  holy  fellow- 
ship. But  here  the  Church,  though  not  absent  from  the  King, 
is  in  the  more  open  Courts  of  this  palace ;  brought  forth,  it 
may  be,  by  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  from  those  inner  re- 
cesses of  meditation  into  which  her  chariot-like  soul  had  carried 
her  when  they  called  on  her  to  return,  and  standing  with  them 
while  they  survey  her  in  the  galleries  of  his  house.  More  es- 
pecially it  would  seem  as  with  the  hair  of  her  head  she  held 
the  King — as  if  with  the  uncut  locks  of  her  consecration  she 
had  more  than  the  strength  of  Samson  to  overcome  (Lee's  Heb. 
Lex.).  The  galleries  where  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  as- 
sembled, and  the  Prince's  daughter  with  them,  would  be  really 
vacant  without  the  King;  but  this  is  her  power  and  glory, 
that  while  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  detain  her,  she  detains 


CHAP.  VII.  5.  THE  GALLERIES.  429 

the  King.  Her  beauty  is  only  a  reflection  of  his,  her  power 
to  benefit  only  as  she  may  prevail  with  him,  and  she  is  not 
worthy  of  any  admiration  except  as  the  King  himself  admires 
her.  But  when  they  have  praised  and  commended,  they  con- 
clude with  saying  that  her  '  praise  is  not  of  men  but  of  God 
— the  King  is  held  in  the  galleries.'  They  had  seen  the  separa- 
tion and  the  sadness,  and  they  see  now  both  what  detains  the 
King  in  the  galleries,  and,  spiritually,  they  see  the  King  who 
is  there  detained.  *  Whither  is  thy  Beloved  gone,  that  we 
may  seek  him  with  thee?'  was  their  earnest  inquiry,  and  now 
they  behold  him  vouchsafing  his  presence  to  her.  This  is  the 
first  time  that  these  inquiring  daughters  speak  of  the  King  as 
present,  and,  in  so  far,  seen  by  themselves.  They  had  oft  been 
charged  not  to  interrupt  the  bride's  communion  with  him — they 
had  been  invited  to  come  forth  and  behold  him  with  his  crown  of 
espousals — they  had  been  entreated,  if  they  found  him,  to  speak 
to  him  for  his  sorrowing  Bride — they  had  asked  of  her  where 
he  might  be  found,  and  had  promised  to  seek  him — and  now 
for  the  first  time  they,  of  their  own  accord,  acknowledge  his 
presence.  The  promise  has  now  been  fulfilled — '  Fear  not,  O 
Zion  !  thy  King  cometh  unto  thee!'  and  the  spectators  'falling 
down,  acknowledge  that  God  is  in  her  of  a  truth.' 

The  feet  with  shoes — the  joints  compactly  knit  together  in 
one — the  shed  blood  and  broken  body  of  Jesus  always  borne 
about — the  faith  and  love — the  holy  liberty  without  spot — the 
calm  meditative  eyes — the  heroic  boldness  in  face  of  the  foe — 
the  crown  of  righteousness  and  of  saved  souls — the  consecra- 
tion of  all  to  him,  even  unto  blood — these  Miold  the  King  in 
the  galleries.'  Blessed  are  they  who  detain  this  King  'bound 
in  the  galleries'  (marg.),  as  with  cords  which  he  cannot  break, 
because  with  *  bands  of  a  man'  which  he  will  not  break.  The 
King  not  held  by  the  joy  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  whence 
he  would  come  forth  for  us  to  lay  down  his  life — not  held  by 
all  the  mountains  of  Bether,  nor  all  the  floods  of  wrath,  from 
coming  to  save  us — not  held  by  the  cords  of  hell  and  death ; 
yet  held  by  the  'little  strength'  of  'the  worm  Jacob' — held 
by  faith,  by  love,  by  prayer,  by  hope,  by  new  obedience.  'Held 
in  the  galleries' — in  the  galleries  of  a  preached  Gospel,  whither 


430         POETRAIT  OF  THE  PEIXCE's  DAUGHTER.    CHAP.  VII.  5. 

the  feet  of  the  Bride  now  carry  it — in  the  galleries  of  a  united 
Church,  where  brethren  dwell  together  in  unity — in  galleries 
where  the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom  sparkles  in  the  cup  of 
salvation — in  galleries  where  the  bread  of  life  and  the  finest 
wheat  are  freely  broken — in  galleries  of  faith  and  love — in 
galleries  of  holy  liberty — in  galleries  of  divine  meditation — 
in  galleries  of  holy  watchfulness — in  galleries  of  holy  boldness 
when  called  to  testify  for  the  faith — in  galleries  crowded  with 
new-born  souls  that  have  pressed  into  the  kingdom — in  gal- 
leries where  hang  crowns  of  free  righteousness — in  galleries  of 
solemn  dedication  to  Christ  even  unto  death — in  such  galleries 
'the  King  is  held/  willingly  held,  always  held.  Blessed  King 
to  hold  ! — blessed  soul  that  holds  him  ! — blessed  gallery  where 
he  is  held! 

The  glorious  and  majestic  One, 
Whom  death  nor  hell  could  e'er  detain, 
Is  by  thy  powerful  graces  won, 
And  tied  as  with  a  mighty  chain. 

Strange  loveliness  it  is  that  sways 
The  sovereign  regent  of  the  skies, 
Constraining  him  to  stay  and  gaze — 
The  charms  do  so  attract  his  eyes. 

Faith's  efforts  bold  o'ercome  the  King; 
How  happy  they  the  conquest  share. 
Who  to  his  sacred  courts  liim  win, 
And  then  have  power  to  hold  him  there ! 

ErsMnc. 


CHAP.  Vir.  0.    BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS.   431 


XXI. 

THE  BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS. 

THE   PALM-TREE — THE   WINE   THAT   AWAKES   THE   SLEEPING THE 

SEAL  OF  ESPOUSALS. 

How  fair  and  how  pleasant  art  thou,  0  love,  for  delights !  This  thy 
stature  is  like  to  a  palm-tree,  and  thy  breasts  to  clusters  of  grapes.  I 
said,  I  will  go  up  to  the  palm-tree,  I  will  take  hold  of  the  boughs  thereof: 
now  also  thy  breasts  shall  be  as  clusters  of  the  vine,  and  the  smell  of  thy 
nose  like  apples;  and  the  roof  of  thy  mouth  like  the  best  wine  for  my 
beloved,  that  goeth  down  sweetly,  causing  the  lips  of  those  that  are  asleep 
to  speak.  I  am  my  beloved's,  and  his  desire  is  toward  me. — Chap.  vii. 
6-10. 

THE   PALM-TREE. 

How  fair  and  horo  pleasant  art  thou,  0  love,  for  delights! — 
The  daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  still  addressing  the  Bride  of 
the  Lamb,  but  we  tal^,e  this  concluding  portion  by  itself,  because 
after  the  break  that  has  just  occurred  regarding  the  King,  the 
address  begins  to  assume  that  practical  turn  which  ends  in 
their  union  to  the  Bride  and  her  Beloved.  Deeply  impressed 
with  the  beauty  she  presented  both  to  the  eyes  of  the  King 
and  to  their  own,  they  exclaim — 'How  faix  and  how  pleasant 
art  thou,  O  love!'  which  accords  exactly  with  what  is  written 
of  the  Pentecostal  Church,  that  '  the  people  magnified  them.' 
They  call  her  by  a  name  which  the  King  never  uses  through- 
out the  Song,  for  though  the  translation  is  the  same  the  origi- 
nal is  different ;  and  they  call  her  '  love,'  both  as  beloved  by 
the  King  and  as  now  beloved  by  themselves — for  they  are  ad- 
vancing always  nearer  into  the  bosom  of  the  Church — 'O  Love, 
O  loving  one,  O  loved  one,  O  lovely  one !'  It  is  a  good  sign 
of  an  inquirer  when  he  not  only  admires,  but  loves,  those  who 
follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth,  and  is  often  one  of 


432  BETROTHING  OF  Jerusalem's  DAUGHTERS,  chap.vii,?. 

the  first  evidences  of  the  love  of  God  within;  'for  whosoever 
loveth  him  that  begat,  loveth  him  also  that  is  begotten  of  him ; 
and  we  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life  because 
we  love  the  brethren.'  She  is  'pleasant  for  delights'  to  them- 
selves, for 'all  they  that  love  her  rejoice  and  are  glad  with 
her';  and  she  is  'pleasant  for  delights'  to  the  King,  for  he  'is 
held  in  the  galleries,  is  calling  her  name  Hej)hzi-bah,  and  the 
Lord  is  delighting  in  her.' 

This  thy  stature  is  like  to  a  palm-tree,  and  thy  breasts  to  clusters 
of  grapes — or  rather,  as  in  one  of  the  older  Bibles,  'This  thy 
stature  is  like  a  palme  tree,  and  thy  breasts  like  clusters;'  that 
is,  clusters  of  dates,  for  there  is  no  evidence  to  prove,  and  no 
need  to  suppose,  that  the  vine  was  trained  on  the  palm-trees. 
The  oldest  of  all  our  printed  bibles  has  it,  'thy  stature  is  like 
a  date-tre,  and  thy  breastes  like  the  grapes ;'  by  which  is  meant 
the  date-clusters,  for  in  the  following  verse  the  clusters  of  the 
vine  are  called  '  vyne  grapes';  so  that  formerly  in  our  language, 
as  still  in  other  languages,  'grapes'  included  all  fruit  that 
grows  in  clusters. 

The  land  of  Israel,  in  certain  parts  of  it  at  least,  like  Jericho, 
was  famous  for  its  palms;  the  nobles  of  Israel,  loved  to  call 
their  daughters  Tamar,  or  palm-tree;  and  the  enemies  of  Israel, 
when  they  would  commemorate  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem, 
struck  the  figure  of  the  captive  daughter  of  Zion  sitting  under 
the  shadow  of  the  palm-tree.  The  wife  of  Lapidoth,  the  lofty 
prophetess  of  Ephraim,  'dwelt  under  the  palm-tree  of  De- 
borah,' and  there  the  assembled  people  waited  on  her  judgment. 
The  palm  is  a  no^le  emblem  of  the  Israel  of  God,  of  'the 
righteous  who  shall  flourish  like  the  palm-tree.'  Besides  the 
properties,  such  as  beauty,  longevity,  and  perennial  verdure, 
that  are  common  to  it  and  the  cedar,  which  has  already  been 
considered  as  an  image  of  Christ,  the  palm  has  special  excel- 
lencies of  its  own.  It  is  erect  and  lofty — not  always  more  lofty 
than  other  trees,  though  some  kinds  of  palm  rise  to  an  amazing 
height,  far  exceeding  the  tallest  trees  that  surround  them,  but 
always  more  erect  in  its  loftiness;  and  the  palm  must  be  a  noble 
object  indeed  amongst  the  low  brushwood  of  the  wilderness. 
'Upright  as  the  palm-tree' — really  upright,  no  slave  of  the 


CHAP.  VII.  8.  THE   PALM-TREE.  433 

world,  no  servant  of  men,  no  stranger  to  God,  can  claim  to 
be.  He  may  be  upright  toward  his  fellow-men,  but  he  is  not 
upright  in  the  presence  of  his  Maker,  saying  with  Elijah,  'the 
Lord  God  of  Israel  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand,'  standing  erect 
and  justified  in  his  sight.  It  drew  the  admiration  of  the  bowed 
down  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  when  they  saw  the  bride  of  Je- 
sus like  the  palm  in  the  midst  of  worthless  bashes,  shooting 
nobly  upward  toward  heaven — Hhis  thy  stature  is  like  the 
palm !'  But  if  it  be  true  of  thee,  thou  needst  not  boast  of  it ; 
in  due  time  the  world  will  own  it,  or  if  never  on  earth  yet  it 
Avill  be  owned  in  that  day  'when  all  the  proud  shall  be  as 
stubble,  and  when  the  day  that  cometh  shall  burn  them  up 
aud  leave  them  neither  root  nor  branch.' 

The  palm-tree,  further,  is  a  sure  sign  of  water.  Wherever 
it  rears  its  graceful  head  in  the  wilderness,  water  is  certain  to 
be  found^  and  therefore  there  is  no  more  welcome  sight  to  the 
thirsty  traveller — 'they  came  to  Elim,  where  were  twelve  wells 
of  water  and  threescore  and  ten  palm-trees,  and  they  encamped 
there  by  the  waters.'  This  palm-tree  in  the  desert  the  daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem  saw,  in  the  Church's  first  baptism  by  the 
Spirit — they  knew  that  there  was  water  there — 'the  Spirit  and 
the  Bride  said.  Come!' — and  thousands  drank  and  lived. 
Wanderer  through  the  world's  wilderness!  despise  it  not,  if 
thou  see  this  palm-tree  flourishing;  when  thou  art  not  thirst- 
ing, thou  wilt  not  turn  aside  to  inquire;  but  when  thy  strength 
is  failing  thee  and  no  water  is  near,  thou  wilt  say  in  thid^ 
heart — There  must  have  been  living  water  where  that  palm- 
tree  flourished,  and  I  knew  it  not!  It  is  not  yet  too  late;  for 
where  those  palm-trees  grow,  everlasting  fountains  are  spring- 
ing— free  for  thee  to  drink  and  live — flowing  to  render  thee 
also  a  tree  planted  by  the  rivers,  with  its  leaf  always  green 
and  its  fruit  never  failing. — But  the  fruit  of  the  palm-tree  is 
to  be  specially  noted : — 

I  said,  I  will  go  up  to  the  palm-tree,  I  will  take  hold  of  the 
boughs  thereof — is  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  the  fruit,  or 
rather,  it  is  the  grasping  of  the  fruit  itself;  for  the  laden  boughs 
of  the  palm  are  little  else  than  vast  fruit-stalks.  No  tree  pre- 
sents a  more  beautiful  picture  of  abundance — the  single,  branch- 


434   BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS   CHAP.  VII.  8. 

less,  untapered  stem — the  magnificent  crown  of  branching 
leaves — at  the  summit  of  the  stem  and  beneath  the  leaves  the 
boughs  or  fruit-stalks,  each  of  them  clustered  round  with  in- 
numerable dates,  and  sometimes  hanging  downward  not  far 
from  the  outstretched  hand.  The  fruit  of  the  palm  is  so  abun- 
dant, that  in  some  of  the  oases  of  the  great  African  desert  it 
is  said  to  form  the  principal  food  of  those  sons  of  Ethiopia 
'who  will  soon  stretch  out  their  hands  to  God,'  and  pluck 
living  fruit  from  a  nobler  palm.  In  these  last  days,  we  some- 
times look  back  with  desire  on  the  patriarchal  infancy  of  the 
Church,  ere  the  palm-tree  had  attained  its  present  height,  and 
when  our  fathers  in  the  faith  gathered  the  ripe  fruit  from  the 
lowly  summit  of  its  still  slender  stem. 

Sweet  were  the  days  when  tliou  didst  lodge  with  Lot, 
Struggle  with  Jacob,  sit  with  Gideon, 
Advise  with  Abraham*  when  thy  j^ower  could  not 
Encounter  Moses'  strong  complaint  and  moan  ; 

Thy  words  were  then,  Let  me  alone. 
One  might  have  sought  and  found  thee  presently. 
At  some  fair  oak,  or  bush,  or  cave,  or  well. — Herbert. 

But  if  the  tree  has  grown  taller,  its  fruit  is  more  abundant  in 
words  of  life  multipled  tenfold  to  us  and  to  our  children,  its 
thickened  stem  is  more  easily  grasped,  and  is  notched  round 
year  by  year  with  helpful  footsteps  by  the  very  gathering  of 
|iie  laden  boughs.  Each  successive  produce  of  the  tree  both 
prepares  for  a  greater,  and  leaves,  like  the  palm,  a  permanent 
step  in  the  ladder  by  which  we  may  reach  the  ample  fruit — 
all  the  past  a  handmaid  to  the  future. 

The  dusters  are  the  'exceeding  great  and  precious  promises' 
of  the  Word  of  life,  because  the  milk  which  the  new-born  babe 
of  grace  desires  is  the  *  sincere  word ;'  and  in  a  passage  re- 
markably pariallel  to  this,  the  same  idea  is  set  forth,  with  this 
single  difference,  that  the  breasts,  which  are  here  likened  to 
vast  clusters  of  ripe  fruit,  are  there  compared  to  exhaustless 
fountains  of  delicious  milk.  These  two  images  are  near  akin 
in  the  book  of  Gk)d,  for  in  the  next  clause  we  have  'clusters 
of  the  vine;'  and  'wine  and  milk'  ever  flow  together  in  the 


CHAP.  VII.  8.  THE   PALM-TREE.  435 

streams  of  life,  as  priceless  as  they  are  precious.  'Who  hath 
heard  such  a  thing?  shall  a  nation  be  born  at  once?  for  as  soon 
as  Zion  travailed  she  brought  forth  her  children;  rejoice  ye 
with  Jerusalem  and  be  glad  with  her  all  ye  that  love  her,  re- 
joice for  joy  all  ye  that  mourn  for  her;  that  ye  may  suck  and 
be  satisfied  with  the  breasts  of  her  consolations;  ye  shall  be 
borne  upon  her  sides,  and  be  dandled  upon  her  knees,  as  one 
whom  his  mother  coraforteth.'  This  is  the  very  scene  before 
us — the  ncAV-born  'nation'  consists  of  the  thousands  of  saved 
souls — 'Zion'  is  the  Christian  Church  in  the  joy  of  the  out- 
poured Spirit  on  the  day  of  Pentecost — the  'breasts  of  her 
consolations'  are  the  good  tidings  of  great  joy  with  which  iier 
bosom  is  filled  to  overflowing.  So  in  this  Song — the  'daugh- 
ters of  Jerusalem'  are  those  who  'mourn'  for  the  desolate 
Church,  inquiring — 'Whither  is  thy  Beloved  gone,  that  we 
may  seek  him  with  thee?'  those  who  'love  her'  entreating — 
'Return,  O  Shulamite !'  and  exclaiming — 'How  pleasant  art 
thou,  O  love,  for  delights!'  and  now  they  'suck  the  breasts  of 
her  consolations,'  they  say,  one  by  one,  'I  will  go  up  to  the 
palm-tree!' they  'take  holdof  the  boughs,' they  grasp  'the  clus- 
ters,'— 'they  are  borne  upon  the  sides,  they  are  dandled  on 
the  knees,  they  are  delighted  with  the  abundance  of  her  glory.' 
Reader!  for  thyself  go  up  to  this  palm-tree,  lofty  yet  accessible; 
thy  God  will  'confirm  thy  feeble  knees'  to  climb  the  well- 
notched  stem,  and  'strengthen  thy  weak  hands'  to  grasp  its 
clustering  promises;  and  then  thou  canst  not  pluck  them  for 
thyself,  without  also  scattering  some  precious  fruit  for  the  per- 
ishing beneath  thee.  Yea,  when  thou  hast  eaten  and  thy  soul 
hath  lived,  put  forth  thy  puny  effort — yet  mighty  through 
God — to  shake  the  laden  boughs  for  the  dying  multitude  around, 
for  '  the  branch  of  the  Lord  is  beautiful  and  glorious,  and  the 
fruit  of  the  earth  excellent  and  comely  for  them  that  are  es- 
caped of  Israel.' 

Nor  ought  we  to  omit  the  higher  boughs,  which  reward  the 
climber  of  the  palm-tree  after  he  is  satisfied  with  its  fruit — 
the  noble  leaves  or  leaf-branches  that  formed  amongst  the  Jews 
the  great  symbol  of  joy  and  of  triumph.  The  Prince's  daughter 
was  not  'beautiful  with  shoes'  till  'the  day  of  Pentecost  had 
b2 


436  BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS.    CHAP.  VII.  8. 

fully  come.'  Many  days  earlier,  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem, 
even  'much  people,  when  they  heard  that  Jesus  was  comuig  to 
Jerusalem,  took  branches  of  palm-trees,  and  went  forth  to  meet 
him,  and  cried,  Hosanna!  Blessed  is  the  King  of  Israel  that 
Cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord !'  Most  seasonable  in  itself, 
and  for  the  King,  were  their  songs  and  their  palms;  but  pre- 
mature for  them,  for  they  knew  not  what  manner  of  spirit 
they  were  of.  But  now  when  they  have  looked,  and  mourned, 
and  rejoiced  ;  now  when  the  feast  of  Pentecost  is  fully  come, 
they  remember  the  branches  of  the  earthly  palm  they  had 
prematurely  plucked.  They  see  others  rejoicing  in  the  fruits 
of  the  earth,  and  they  say,  Not  with  those  fruits  will  I  rejoice 
— but  this  bride  of  Jesus,  this  Prince's  daughter,  is  a  noble 
palm-tree  in  mine  eyes,  its  clusters  I  have  eaten,  and  its  wav- 
ing branches  J  will  pluck,  and  will  rejoice  before  the  Lord  my 
God.  'The  branch  of  the  Lord  was  excellent  and  glorious'  to 
them  indeed;  for  'they  gladly  received  the  word;  were  filled 
with  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  they  kept  the  feast  with  gladness 
and  singleness  of  heart,  praising  God.' 

'After  this,'  in  the  closing  scene  of  all,  'I  beheld  and  lo  a 
great  multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  of  all  nations 
and  kindreds  and  people  and  tongues,  stood  before  the  throne 
and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  in  white  robes  and  palms  in  their 
hands.'  And  whence  those  triumphal  palms?  Chiefly  be- 
cause 'they  have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb,'  yet  also  because  'they  have  come  out 
of  great  tribulation.'  They  have  heard  the  promise,  'to  him 
that  overcometh  will  I  give' — through  all  difficulty  and  dis- 
couragements they  have  '  persevered  unto  the  end ' — they  have 
gone  up  into  the  palm-tree  and  laid  hold  on  the  boughs  there- 
of, tliey  have  climbed  its  lofty  stem,  have  plucked  its  topmost 
waving  plumes,  and  now  they  stand  with  palms  in  their  hands 
before  the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb.  Fellow-traveller 
through  life!  wilt  thou  also  climb?  We  have  seen  not  the 
date-bearing  palm,  but  another  species  of  the  same  tree  rising 
so  high  with  umbrella-like  shaft  and  tuft  above  the  surround- 
ing timber  of  the  forest,  that  we  almost  shrank  from  eating 
the  pleasant  produce  that  had  been  fetched  from  the  giddy 


CHAP.  VII.  8.  TUE   PALM-TREE.  437 

height ;  yet  to  the  bold  and  practised  climber  it  was  a  daily 
feat  without  danger  or  difficulty.  What  seems  arduous  or  im- 
possible at  first,  M'ill  be  accomplished  by  God's  right  hand  up- 
holding thee,  and  will  become  daily  easier  by  daily  exercise 
unto  godliness.  Yet  see  that  thou  sleep  not  on  that  lofty 
mast,  or  if  thou  sleep  and  fall,  'remember  whence  thou  hast 
fallen  and  hold  fast  and  repent  /  see  that  thou  turn  not  back  to- 
ward earth  again,  for  thine  must  be  a  life-long  ascent  heaven- 
ward, and  '  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no  pleas- 
sure  in  him;'  and  see  that  thou  faint  not  through  fear  and  unbe- 
lief, for  'the  fearful  and  unbelieving'  fall  into  the  abyss  beneath, 
and  are  for  ever  among  the  dogs  without.  When  at  length, 
through  faith  and  patience,  thou  hast  'gone  up  into  the  palm- 
tree  and  taken  hold  of  its  boughs;'  when,  if  left  for  a  moment 
even  at  the  last,  thou  wouldst  sink  helpless  into  the  pit  below ; 
then  will  thy  Lord  '  hold  thee  by  thy  right  hand,'  saying,  '  Fear 
not!'  and  will  himself  break  for  thee,  and  bestow  upon  thee, 
the  long-sought  symbol  of  victory.  How  joyfully  then  wilt 
thou  'remember  all  the  way;'  and  how  adoringly,  with  the 
white  robes  arraying  thee  and  the  unfading  'palm  in  thine 
hand,'  wilt  thou  stand  before  the  throne  and  before  the  Lamb! 
Yea,  if  the  King,  the  Bridegroom,  the  Beloved,  should  make 
a  festal  progress  through  the  'streets  of  gold  like  transparent 
glass,'  as  he  did  through  the  earthly  Jerusalem  when  he  rode 
on  paths  paved  with  fairest  garments,  and  adorned  with  choicest 
boughs — would  not  the  bright  company  above  who  'cast  their 
crowns'  at  his  feet,  right  joyfully  'spread'  the  way  for  Him 
even  with  their  '  white  robes,' and  'straw'  it  with  their  tri- 
umphal 'palms'  while  they  sung, 'Hosanna  to  the  Kino-  of 
Israel,  Hosanna  in  the  highest?' 

Who  would  gain  thy  fruit 
Must  climb,  undaunted  that  such  trivial  help 
Thy  naked  stem  can  offer  in  itself, 
With  eyes  up-raised,  with  steady  feet  put  forth, 
On  the  prepared  indenting  of  his  way, 
Patiently  rising  till  a  high  reward, 
And  wreath  for  victors,  be  within  his  grasp. 
O  difficulties !  why  should  we  retreat. 
When  ye  are  steps  that  lead  to  such  success  1—Meditaiions. 


438  BETROTHixG  OF  Jerusalem's  DAUGHTERS,  chap.vii.8. 

THE   WINE   THAT   AWAKES   THE   SLEEPING. 

Now  also  thy  breasts  shall  be  as  the  clusters  of  the  vine. — The 
clusters  of  the  palm  are  now  followed  by  'the  clusters  of  the 
vine/  not  by  a  confusion  but  by  a  succession  of  images — the  date 
serving  to  feed  and  nourish,  the  grape  to  cheer  and  to  quench 
the  thirst.  The  vine  in  the  garden  of  nuts  had  flourished,  its 
fruit  was  already  ripe,  and  clusters  of  Eshcol  had  been  gath- 
ered from  the  land  of  promise — the  first-fruits  and  the  richest 
of  all  the  vintage.  Of  all  the  images  in  the  word  of  God 
taken  from  vegetable  life,  the  highest  place  is  still  accorded 
to  the  vine.  Each  has  its  own  peculiar  excellence — the  fig, 
the  olive,  the  apple,  the  cedar,  the  palm — but  all  yield  pre- 
cedence to  the  vine ;  the  feeblest  of  all,  but  with  the  richest 
fruit ;  the  chosen  emblem  of  all  creation's  entire  dependence 
on  God;  the  image  of  creation's  noblest  produce  to  its  Maker. 
'I  am  the  true  vine,'  said  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  these  grapes 
are  the  fruit  of  this  Vine ;  and  the  clusters  of  grapes,  like  the 
palm-tree's  clusters,  are  the  promises, — the  words  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  which  are  spirit  and  life  to  all  who  receive  them. 
The  Church's  breasts  are  therefore  vine-clusters,  full  of  joy 
for  the  sad  in  heart,  full  of  refreshing  for  the  weary,  that  they 
'may  suck  and  be  satisfied  with  the  breasts  of  her  consola- 
tions.' How  widely  diiferent  the  consolations  which  all  the 
world  bestows — how  sadly  unsatisfying ! 

And  the  smell  of  thy  nose  {or  breath']  like  apples  {or  citrons']. — 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  fragrance  of  the  breath  is  here 
meant  by  what  our  bible  renders  too  literally  ;  for  a  transla- 
tion may  be  less  just  if  too  exact,  because  the  expressions  that 
are  natural  in  one  language  are  inapproj^riate  in  another.  This 
reviving  breath  of  the  Church  is  the  fragrance  of  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  'breathed'  on  her  by  'his  mouth  which  is  most  sweet;' 
and  rendering  her  own  breath,  which  was  once  corrupt,  odor- 
ous like  citrons,  and  reviving  for  those  who  are  ready  to  faint. 
The  Spirit  of  God  dwells  in  believers;  and  as  into  the  nos- 
trils of  our  lifeless  father  God  *  breathed  the  breath  of  life,'  so 
into  our  lifeless  souls  has  he  breathed  the  life-giving  Spirit. 
'The  first  Adam  was  a  living  soul;  the  Second  Adam  is  a 


CHAP.VII.8.    THE  WIISIE  THAT  AWAKES  THE  SLEEPING.       439 

quickening   Spirit.      Jesus   'the  breatli  of  our  nostrils,  the 
Anointed  of  the  Lord' — in  whom  is  our  life,  and  on  whom  is 
the  Lord's  anointing  without  measure — has  of  his  own  free- 
will breathed  out  his  soul  for  us,  and  given  up  the  ghost.    The 
breath  of  the  life  which  he  gave  up  for  us  we  receive  from  him, 
and  with  it  the  fragrant  anointing  of  the  Spirit;  so  that  the 
breath  of  our  'nostrils'  (old  translation)  becomes  fragrance  in 
the  midst  of  corruption.     To  give  the  wonder-working  Spirit 
to  another  none  who  received  it  had  power,  except  the  apostles; 
to  give  the  quickening  Spirit  no  apostle  had  power,  but  only 
He  that  was  sent  of  God;  but  the  Spirit  inhaled  by  the  believer 
is  also  by  him  breathed  forth  around.     The  mere  presence  of 
a  soul  on  which  rests  'the  unction  from  the  Holy  One'  is  fra- 
o-rant  and  reviving;  the  mere  presence  of  a  soul  'dead  in  trespas- 
ses and  sins'  diffuses  corruption  around,  for  'their  throat  is  an 
open  sepulchre.'    When  ungodly  men  speak  not,  the  sepulchral 
breath  of  the  spirit  within  them  spreads  around  them  its  noxious 
exhalation ;  and  when  many  of  the  dead  are  gathered  together 
for  their  own  worldly  pleasures  or  pastimes,  the  atmosphere 
becomes  pestilential.     But  the  soul  quickened  in  Jesus  Christ 
has  received  not  only  life,  but  'unction';  not  mere  breath,  but 
the  breath  of  heaven  wafted  from  '  the  mountain  of  myrrh  and 
the  hill  of  frankincense,'  and  bearing  with  it  the  sweet  savour 
of  Christ,  the  infinite  fragrance  of  the  Anointed  One,   the 
odours  of  the  myrrh  and  the  aloes  and  the  cassia  which  per- 
fume the  garments  of  Him  'whose  name  is  Ointment  poured 
forth.'     That  which  the  soul  has  now  inhaled,  that  which  is 
its  very  breath  of  life,  it  cannot  but  exhale;  and  thus  it  be- 
comes a  source  of  living  fragrance  amidst  the  exhalations  of 
the  tomb.     One  who  has  received  the  anointing,  one  Christian 
or  anointed  man,  even  in  silence  is  as  spikenard  in  a  banquet- 
hall  ;  much  more  when  he  speaks  and  his  speech  is  seasoned 
with  grace,  for  then  the  inward  breath  of  the  Spirit  is  diffused 
by  the  words  of  his  mouth.     This  is  still  more  observable  when 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  or  in 
the  house  of  God,  when  a  heavenly  fragrance  often  fills  the 
place  irrespectively  of  the  Avords  uttered  at  the  moment,  or 
even  in  an  interval  of  silence.     In  times  of  copious  anointing 


440   BETROTHING  OP  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS.    CHAP.  VII.  9. 

by  the  Spirit,  the  cleaf  that  could  not  hear  the  preacher's  words 
have  sometimes  been  arrested  and  attracted  as  if  by  the  fra- 
grant breath  of  assembled  saints,  and  have  themselves  become 
partakers  of  the  quickening  Spirit.  How  much  more  in  Pen- 
tecostal days,  when  the  Holy  Ghost  rested  on  the  Church  and 
'  great  grace  was  on  all,'  must  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  have 
been  attracted  to  the  Daughter  of  the  Prince !  In  the  midst 
of  the  death  that  reigned  around,  and  when  those  who  were 
fairest  to  the  eye  were  only  whited  sepulchres  augmenting  the 
corruption,  how  must  these  fainting  daughters  have  exclaimed 
-;-'The  smell  of  thy  breath  is  like  citrons!' 

And  the  roof  of  thy  mouth  like  the  best  loine  for'  my  beloved, 
that  goeth  down  sweetly,  causing  the  lips  of  those  that  are  asleep 
to  speak. — '  The  roof  of  the  mouth '  means  the  voice,  or,  more 
exactly,  the  palate  or  throat  pouring  out  the  voice,  like  the 
outpouring  of  the  choicest  wine.  '  The  mouth  of  fools  poureth 
forth  foolishness,  but  the  well-spring  of  wisdom  is  a  flowing 
brook ;'  and  this  brook  is  here  represented  as  overflowing  with 
wine.  This  'best  wine'  is  poured  out  for  two  distinct  parties; 
first  for  'my  Beloved,'  because  the  inquiring  daughters  of  Je- 
rusalem, in  some  of  their  number  at  least,  now  reach  their 
final  destination;  they  become  one  with  the  Bride,  and  they 
call  Christ  their  own  '  Beloved.'  They  are  first  warned  not  to 
misjudge  the  Bride — then  not  to  disturb  the  Beloved — then  to 
behold  him  with  his  marriage-crown — then  if  any  of  them  find 
Christ,  to  intercede  for  his  forsaken  spouse.  Still  they  ask 
her  'what  is  thy  beloved?' — they  next  desire  to  'seek  him  with 
her';  but  as  her  beloved  rather  than  their  own — and  then  they 
call  her  'love'  in  closest  attachment,  as  well  as  highest  ad- 
miration. But  now,  they  have  eaten  for  themselves  'the  clus- 
ters of  the  palm-tree  and  of  the  vine,'  have  become  '  partakers 
of  the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises'  in  their  own 
souls,  and  they  alter  their  language,  and  call  him  not  her  be- 
loved but  their  own — 'the  best  wine  for  my  Beloved.'  It  was 
now  in  Jerusalem  as  it  had  been  in  Sychar,  when  'many  of 
the  Samaritans  believed  for  the  saying  of  the  woman  which 
testified,  He  told  me  all  things  that  ever  I  did;  and  many 
more  believed  because  of  his  own  word,  and  said  unto  the  wo- 


CHAP.  VII.  9.    THE  WINE  THAT  AWAKES  THE  SLEEPING.       441 

man, — Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying,  for  we  have 
heard  him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ, 
the  Saviour  of  the  world.' 

But  why  is  this  wine  for  the  Beloved?  Because  to  the  Be- 
loved the  love  of  the  Church  'is  better  than  wine,'  and  es- 
pecially that  love  uttered  in  praise  or  in  prayer  or  in  preach- 
ing of  the  word — 'they  shall  drink  and  make  a  noise  as  through 
Avine,  they  shall  be  filled  like  bowls.'  We  are  not  informed 
what  was  the  nature  of  the  first  utterance  of  the  disciples  after 
the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  except  that  it  '  was,  speaking  the 
wonderful  works  of  God  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance.' 
Before  much  time  had  elapsed,  Peter  stood  up  with  the  eleven 
and  preached  repentance  and  remission  of  sins  to  the  people 
in  the  name  of  Jesus;  but  the  previous  utterance  which  at- 
tracted the  multitude  does  not  appear  to  have  been  direct 
preaching  like  Peter's  discourse,  but  rather  a  pouring  out  of 
the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom  before  the  Lord,  in  presence  of 
the  multitude.  It  was  '  the  best  wine  for  the  Beloved,'  which 
he  was  now  'drinking  new  with  them  in  the  kingdom  of  the 
Father;  supping  with  them  and  they  with  him.'  But  the 
right  utterance  of  truth  and  love  from  the  lips  of  the  believer, 
in  whatever  form,  is  always  as  the  best  wine  to  the  Beloved, 
who  assures  him  'My  son,  if  thy  lips  speak  right  things,  my 
reins  shall  rejoice;'  and  all  our  sjieech  ought  to  be,  first,  'not 
as  pleasing  men  but  pleasing  God — a  sweet  savour  of  Christ' 
to'  the  Father. 

But  next,  it  is  wine  for  '  those  that  are  asleep,  going  down 
sweetly  and  causing  them  to  speak.' 

Like  strong  and  mellow  wine, 
Which  makes  the  ancient  speak; 

Awakening  those  that  sleep, 

In  heavinesse  and  grief. 

Troth-plight  Spouse. 

These  lines  combine  our  present  translation  with  the  older 
ones  and  with  our  marginal  reading;  the  root  of  the  two  ideas 
is  the  same,  the  weakness  and  inactivity  which  are  jDroduced 
both  by  age  and  by  sleep;  but  the  'sleep'  of  the  authorized 


\ 

442  BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS.    CHAP.  VII.  9. 

version  appears  the  better  rendering.  It  is  'strong  drink  to 
them  that  are  ready  to  perish,  and  wine  to  such  as  are  of  a 
heavy  heart.'  Christ's  first  miracle  was  to  turn  water  into 
wine — 'the  good  wine  kept  until  now' — intimating  that  to 
men  slumbering,  yet  dying  under  the  law,  the  Gospel  would 
come  Avith  all  the  power  of  restoration  to  the  faint ;  and  the 
word  spoken  by  the  Apostles  was  such  wine  indeed  as  the 
world,  faint  and  sick,  had  never  tasted  before.  The  same  effect 
is  ascribed  to  the  Gospel  under  the  image  of  water — '  Then  the 
eyes  of  the  blind  shall  be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall 
be  unstopped,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  sing,  for  in  the 
wilderness  shall  waters  break  out.'  These  men  were  blind, 
deaf,  and  dumb — water  opens  their  eyes,  unstops  their  ears, 
and  loosens  their  tongues — because  for  lack  of  water  they  had 
fainted,  and  could  not  see  nor  hear  nor  speak.  This  fainting 
swoon  is  here  represented  by  'sleep,'  which  in  like  manner 
paralyses  the  soul ;  for  it  is  not  the  sleep  of  health  but  of  want, 
exhaustion,  sickness,  sorrow.  'The  new  wine  of  the  king- 
dom' is  first  poured  upon  the  sleeping  lips,  exactly  as  the  water 
elsewhere  is  poured — 'I  will  pour  water  upon  him  that  is 
thirsty.'  It  is  not  water  poured  out  /or  the  thirsty,  but  on 
him  ;  because  he  is  too  weak  to  rise  and  too  faint  to  drink,  till 
the  refreshing  water  poured  by  a  Father's  hand  has  moistened 
his  lips,  and  restored  the  first  weak  beginnings  of  strength, 
that  he  may  rise  and  drink  for  himself  and  live;  for  the  sin- 
ner is  passive  under  the  first  drops  of  grace  from  above,  which 
restore  the  elements  of  spiritual  life  in  the  soul.  The  image 
here  is  the  same,  but  with  wine  substituted  for  water — the 
soul  in  its  swooning  sleep  is  too  faint  to  stretcli  the  hand  for 
the  wine-cup,  or  to  drink  it  if  presented.  The  man  has  drunk 
the  cup  of  death — first  the  poisoned  cup  of  sin,  and  then  the 
mingled  wine-cup  of  wrath ;  he  has  tasted  the  bitterness  of 
death,  has  fainted,  and  become  as  one  that  is  'asleep.' 

How  exactly  this  describes  the  case  of  many  a  soul  under 
the  curse  of  the  law!  they  have  lost  their  old  life,  and  the 
new  life  they  have  not  yet  found.  The  law  has  killed  them, 
they  are  lying  dead,  and  to  themselves  it  seems  as  if  they  were 
not  awake  to  anything — not  ever    <o  '.he  ""o^th  r.f  their  own 


CHAP.  VII.  10.  THE   SEAL   OF   ESPOUSAL.  443 

soul.  They  are  as  men  in  a  stupor,  in  a  sleep;  and  as  such 
the  word  addresses  them,  '  Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise 
from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light!'  Nothing 
awakens  the  soul  out  of  that  sleep  but  the  Gospel ;  the  law  has 
already  slain,  and  it  seems  as  if  the  soul  could  no  longer  feel 
the  wounds  of  that  sword.  But  how  the  new  wine  of  the 
Gospel  awakes  this  sleeper!  When  it  touches  his  lips  he  is 
afraid  to  drink,  afraid  to  open  his  mouth  wide  that  it  may  be 
filled,  for  he  thinks  that  every  draught  must  be  bitterness  and 
death  for  him.  But  its  first  drop  from  an  unseen  Father's 
hand  begins  to  restore — oozing  through  his  closed  lips  'it 
goeth  down  sweetly' — half  'asleep'  still,  half  dead,  he  now  be- 
gins to  speak,  and  his  first  words  are.  Lord!  evermore  give 
me  this  new  wine!  Strengthened  by  the  living  draught,  he 
rises,  takes  in  his  hand  the  cup  of  salvation,  '  drinks  and  for- 
gets his  poverty,  and  remembers  his  misery  no  more.'  He 
'  opens  now  his  lips  and  praises  God ';  and  'the  tongue  of  the 
dumb  sings  a  new  song  to  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  done  wondrous 
things.'  Believer !  say  if  this  history  was  not  thine  own ; 
sleeper!  awake,  and  believe  the  word  of  salvation,  and  it  shall 
also  be  thine. 

As  Cana's  wine  they  know  full  well 

Who  draw  it  from  the  vessels,  that  his  will 

Alone  hath  made  it  what  they  find  it  now. 

It  goes  down  straightway  to  the  heart's  deep  core, 

Breaking  its  slumbers  ;  and  the  long-closed  lips 

Of  them  that  were  asleep  begin  to  speak 

Of  things  eternal. — Meditations. 

THE   SEAL   OF   ESPOUSAL. 

I  am  my  Beloved's  and  his  desire  is  toward  me. — This  is  an 
expression  of  far  greater  fullness  than  '  I  am  my  Beloved's 
and  my  Beloved  is  mine  ;'  not  of  more  entire  dependence  and 
trust  in  Christ,  but  of  greater  nearness  on  the  part  of  Christ 
to  the  soul,  and  clearer  perception  by  the  soul  of  that  near- 
ness. It  implies  out-going  of  desire  from  the  heart  to  Christ, 
but  it  expressly  dec  hires  what  is  much  more  precious — the 
known  strength  of  Christ's  desire  toward  the  believer.     '  I 


444  BETROTHING  OF  JERUSALEM'S  DAUGHTERS.  CHAP.  VII.  10. 

know,  saith  the  Lord,  the  thoughts  that  I  think  towards  you, 
thoughts  of  good  and  not  of  evil;'  the  Lord  who  thinks  them 
knows  them,  but  he  toward  whom  they  are  thought  is  often 
ignorant,  or  doubtful,  or  unbelieving  regarding  them;  and  most 
blessed  are  the  souls  that  can  respond,  '  We  have  known  and 
believed  the  love  that  God  hath  to  us.'  We  have  more  knowl- 
edge now  in  the  letter  of  this  love  than  the  fathers  had  of  old, 
and  we  ought  to  have  more  faith  in  the  love;  yet  too  seldom 
do  we  say  with  David,  'how  many  thy  thoughts  Avhich  are  to 
us- ward,  they  are  more  than  can  be  numbered!' — or  with  the 
Bride,  'my  Beloved  is  mine,  and  his  desire  is  toward  me!' 
Yet,  by  grace,  even  we  adopt  these  words ;  through  the  Holy 
Ghost  we  also  have  the  mind  of  Christ;  receiving  the  Spirit 
of  God,  we  humbly  believe  and  assuredly  know  what  is  in  the 
heart  of  God  and  of  his  Christ,  and  are  enabled  to  set  our  seal 
to  the  words  of  the  Bride,  and  say  along  with  her — 'His  de- 
sire is  toward  me — I  am  poor  and  needy,  yet  the  Lord  thinketh 
on  me  !'  He  so  thinketh  on  us,  as  to  enable  us  to  know  that 
we  are  the  object  of  his  thoughts;  he  so  desireth  us,  as  to  give 
us  secret  intimation  and  assurance  that  we  are  the  object  of 
his  desire.     Wondrous  grace ! 

But  whose  words  are  these,  'My  Beloved  is  mine,  and  his 
desire  is  toward  me'? — are  they  the  words  of  the  Spouse  as  be- 
fore, or  of  the  daughter  of  Jerusalem,  who  in  her  own  and  her 
sisters'  name  said  she  would  go  up  into  the  palm-tree,  and 
spoke  of  the  best  wine  for  her  Beloved?  Of  both,  as  we  con- 
ceive, now  united  into  one — of  the  newly-betrothed  daughter 
of  Jerusalem  saying, 'My  Beloved  is  mine  and  his  desire  is 
toward  me!'  in  the  kindness  of  her  youth  and  in  the  love  of 
her  espousals;  and  of  the  recently-restored  spouse  'called  now 
as  a  woman  forsaken  and  a  wife  of  youth  when  she  had  been 
refused,'  and  saying,  'My  Beloved  is  mine,  and  his  desire  is 
toward  me!'  They  are  the  words  of  the  restored  Peter  who 
had  forsaken  and  denied  his  Lord,  and  wept  when  he  thought 
thereon;  and  the  words  of  the  new-born  converts  to  whom 
he  had  preached  rejientance  and  the  remission  of  sins.  They 
are  the  words  of  the  penitent  and  believing  multitude  of  teachers 
and  taught,  who  are  'of  one  heart  and  of  one  soul,'  and  now  as 


CHAP.  YIl.  10.  THE   SEAL   OF   ESPOUSAL.  445 

one  Bride  of  the  Lamb  sing,  'My  Beloved  is  mine  and  his  de- 
sire is  toward  me!'  A  similar  adoption  and  union  will  be 
found  again  of  another  branch  of  the  Church,  toward  the  close 
of  the  Book;  nor  does  it  militate  against  this  view,  that  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  are  once  more  afterwards  addressed  by 
the  Bride;  because  with  every  addition  to  the  Church, — when 
*  there  were  daily  added  to  it  such  as  should  be  saved/ — there 
still  sprang  up  around  her,  new  daughters  of  Jerusalem — new 
inquirers,  to  be  added  also  in  the  day  of  their  visitation.  Or, 
if  we  prefer  to  conclude  that  these  daughters  of  Jerusalem  in 
the  eighth  chapter  are  the  same  individuals  as  in  this,  it  is 
natural  and  fit  that  these  new  converts,  more  ignorant  of  Sa- 
tan's devices  and  less  alive  to  whatever  may  grieve  the  Spirit, 
should  be  charged  by  the  tempted  and  tried  and  restored  Bride 
of  the  Lamb  'not  to  stir  up  nor  awake  her  love  till  he  pleased.' 
No  more  after  this  do  we  hear  them  ask  of  the  Bride,  what 
her  beloved  is  more  than  another  beloved,  or  propose  to  seek 
for  Jesus  as  the  Bride's  Beloved  distinct  from  their  own :  but, 
through  grace,  they  have  for  themselves  called  him  'my  Be- 
loved ';  and  along  with  the  Bride  are  enabled  to  say,  '  My  Be- 
loved is  mine  and  his  desire  is  towards  me!'  So  is  it  in  all 
conversion — the  soul  that  gives  itself  first  to  the  Lord  'gives 
itself  also  to  us  by  the  will  of  God';  teachers  and  taught  are 
alike  members  of  one  living  body,  are  alike  and  together 
followers  of  one  Lamb  of  God,  and  go  forth  alike  and  together 
to  seek  the  salvation  of  the  lost. 


446         THE   GARDEN   IN   THE   FIELDS.       CHAP  VII.  ll-Viir.4. 


»  XXII. 

THE  GARDEN  IN  THE  FIELDS— THE  VERY  BROTHER. 

Come,  my  beloved !  let  us  go  forth  into  the  field  ;  let  us  lodge  in  the 
villages.  Let  us  get  up  early  to  the  vineyards ;  let  us  see  if  the  vine 
flourish,  ivhdhcr  the  tender  grape  appear,  and  the  pomegranates  bud 
forth:  there  will  I  give  thee  my  loves.  The  mandrakes  give  a  smell,  and 
at  our  gates  are  all  manner  of  pleasant /?-wi7-i',  new  and  old,  which  I  have 
laid  up  for  thee,  0  my  beloved!  Oh  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother,  that 
sucked  the  breasts  of  my  mother !  when  I  should  find  thee  without,  I 
would  kiss  thee ;  yea,  I  should  not  be  despised.  I  would  lead  thee,  and 
bring  thee  into  my  mother's  house,  who  would  instruct  me :  I  would  cause 
thee  to  drink  of  spiced  wine  of  the  juice  of  my  pomegranate.  His  left 
hand  should  he  under  my  head,  and  his  right  hand  should  embrace  me. 
I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem!  that  ye  stir  not  up,  nor  awake 
my  love,  until  he  please. — Chap.  vii.  11-13;  viii.  1-4. 

THE   GARDEN   IN   THE   FIELDS. 

Come,  my  beloved!  let  us  go  forth  inio  the  field;  let  us  lodge 
in  the  villages.  Let  us  get  up  early  to  the  vineyards;  let  us  see 
if  the  vine  flourish,  whether  the  tender  grape  appear,  and  thep>ome- 
granates  budfoiih:  there  will  I  give  thee  my  loves.  The  man- 
drakes give  a  smell,  and  at  our  gates  are  all  manner  of  pleasant 
fruits,  new  and  old,  u-hich  I  have  laid  up  for  thee,  0  my  beloved! — 
In  this  prayer  of  the  Bride,  and  of  such  of  the  daughters  of 
Jerusalem  as  had  now  become  one  with  her,  there  are  some 
things  which  we  have  ah-eady  considered — the  flourishing  of 
the  vine,  the  appearing  of  the  tender  grape,  and  the  budding 
of  the  pomegranate;  but  there  are  two  points  deserving  of 
special  notice.  The  first  is,  that  in  the  midst  of  the  work  of 
visiting  the  vineyard,  she  expressly  contemplates  communion 
with  himself,  nay,  makes  it  her  principal  object  in  view — 


CHAP.  VII.   11-13.       THE    GARDEX    IX    THE    FIELDS.  447 

'there  will  I  give  thee  my  loves.'  The  Bride  will  not  merely 
have  Christ  walking  with  her  in  her  labour  of  love  for  his 
name,  but  in  the  midst  of  it  will  have  express  seasons  of  direct 
communion  with  himself,  and  will  go  forth  to  that  work,  not 
only  to  obey  him  and  to  benefit  men,  but  in  order  to  obtain  this 
communion.  If,  believer!  thy  Shepherd  is  leaving  the  ninety 
and  nine  sheep  in  the  wilderness  to  go  after  the  one  that  is  lost 
till  he  find  it,  when  thou  also  seekest  for  that  lost  one  thou 
shalt  not  only  find  the  sheep,  but  the  shepherd  who  is  gone 
forth  in  quest  of  it;  while,  if  thou  abidest  only  in  the  sheep- 
fold,  thou  shalt  miss  the  shepherd  himself. 

The  next  point  is,  that  the  Bride  prepares  for  her  Beloved 
all  manner  of  fruits,  both  new  and  old.  There  are  tender 
grapes  on  the  vino,  there  are  fruits  just  ripe  and  newly  plucked, 
and  there  are  fruits  of  former  years  carefully  preserved.  Such 
the  soul  possesses,  that  is  growing  in  grace  and  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Thou  hast  fruits  of  repentance, 
of  faith,  of  love,  of  good  works  that  have  been  gathered  long 
ago,  for  Christ  who  sent  thee  to  bring  forth  fruit,  ordained 
that  thy  fruit  'should  remain' — laid  up  for  eternity  in  the 
Lord's  storehouses  ;  thou  hast  fruits  of  the  Sj^irit  newly  ripened 
and  fresh  for  the  husbandman  to  eat,  and  thou  hast  the  blos- 
som and  the  tender  grapes,  not  fit  for  gathering,  but  Ijeauteous 
in  their  promise;  new  thoughts  springing  through  the  soul — 
of  love,  of  labour,  of  repentance,  of  faith,  of  liberality.  'Blessed 
is  the  man  that  is  in  such  a  case — yea  blessed  is  the  man  whose 
God  is  the  Lord !'  But  if  thy  Lord  cometh  seeking  fruit  on 
the  fig-tree  and  findeth  none,  thinkest  thou  to  turn  away  his 
displeasure  by  offering  him  the  old  figs  of  former  seasons  now 
corrupted? — once  good  figs,  but  now  by  length  of  time  become 
exceeding  bad,  so  that  they  cannot  be  eaten. 

To  these  two  notes  of  the  varied  character  of  the  fruit,  and 
of  the  Lord's  presence  in  visiting  the  vineyard,  may  be  added 
two  other  notes  of  time  and  of  place.  Regarding  the  timCy  the 
Church  says  'Let  us  get  up  early  to  the  vineyards,'  as  to  a 
work  requiring  immediate  attention,  and  not  bearing  any  de- 
lay. The  work  demands  all  earnestness,  implied  in  the  early 
rising  to  engage  in  it;  and  is  work  most  inviting  and  attractive, 


448  THE    GARDEN    IN    THE    FIELDS.       CHAP.  VII.   11-13. 

inducing  activity  on  the  first  dawn  of  morning.  Not  so  in- 
viting to  our  first  parents  was  the  dressing  of  their  earthly 
Paradise,  as  is  the  keeping  of  the  garden  of  grace,  when  the 
dew  from  the  Lord  descends  on  it. 

To-morrow  ere  fresh  morning  streak  the  east, 
With  first  approach  of  light  we  must  be  risen, 
And  at  our  pleasant  labour  to  re-form 
Yon  flowery  arbours,  yonder  alleys  green. 
Our  walk  at  noon  with  branches  overgrown. 
Those  blossoms  also  and  those  dropping  gums, 
That  lie  bestrewn,  unsightly  and  unsmooth, 

Ask  riddance. 

Paradise  Lost, 

But  while  there  is  much  joy  in  getting  up  early  to  the  vine- 
yards with  their  tender  grapes  and  budding  pomegranates,  there 
is  the  stern  work  of  severe  earnestness  besides,  requiring  the 
whole  soul's  self-denial  in  girding  itselfearly  for  the  task  and 
the  conflict.  There  is  also  an  immediate  necessity  for  redeem- 
ing every  moment  for  the  salvation  of  lost  souls,  for  while 
some  are  budding  with  new  spiritual  life,  most  are  still  dry 
branches,  or  leafy  at  best,  with  the  axe  laid  to  their  root;  and 
if  we  are  not  early  awake  seeking  to  snatch  them  as  brands 
from  the  burning,  they  may  have  been  cut  down  before  the 
third  hour  or  the  sixth,  and  our  effort  be  hopelessly  late.  Oh 
that  any  man  knew  the  value  of  one  immortal  soul! 

There  is,  further,  the  place  where  these  special  vineyards 
lie — 'let  us  go  forth  into  the  field,  let  us  lodge  in  the  villages.' 
They  are  not  like  the  vineyards  hitherto  mentioned,  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  either  of  the  bride's  residence  or  of 
the  King's  palace,  but  are  far  from  both.  'Let  us  go  forth 
into  the  field' — intimates  distance,  highways  and  hedges  to  be 
passed  along,  and  solitary  places  to  be  crossed,  ere  the  vine- 
yards can  be  reached.  '  Her  mother's  house '  has  been  a  favour- 
ite resort  of  the  Bride,  that  she  may  bring  the  GosjdcI  to  her 
mother's  children;  but  these  are  the  outfield  population,  not 
assembling  in  the  house  of  prayer,  and  not  partakers  in  the 
privileges  of 'Jerusalem  which  is  free,  which  is  the  mother  of 
us  all.'     To  them  the  believer  would  now  go  forth,  amongst 


CHAP.  VII.  11-13.      THE   GARDEN   IN    THE  FIEKUS.  449 

them  he  would  now  serve  Christ,  amongst  them  walk  with 
Christ,  and  amongst  them  seek  to  find  Christ.  He  would 
obtain  for  Jesus,  and  would  present  to  him  out  of  a  new  vine- 
yard, precious  first-fruits  of  the  redeemed. 

But  in  the  place  there  is  more  than  mere  distance  noted,  for 
there  is  residence  contemplated,  as  well  as  journeying;  not 
permanent  indeed,  yet  such  as  implies  a  removal  from  home, 
and  the  uncertainties  and  hardships  incident  to  going  forth 
into  4he  fields,  and  lodging  in  the  villages.'  Blessed  are  they 
who  count  all  things  loss  for  Jesus  Christ;  who  keep  not 
within  the  narrow  home-line  of  other  men's  labours;  who  for- 
sake Miouses  and  lands'  for  Christ's  sake  and  the  Gospel — 
either  permanently,  if  so  called,  or  for  a  season,  according  to 
the  Master's  work;  'seeking  first  the  kingdom  and  righteous- 
ness of  God,'  and  holding  all  things  else  subordinate,  and  easily 
set  aside  or  sacrificed  for  his  sake.  How  much  in  this  way  is 
still  to  be  done  in  all  lands ! — how  much  in  our  own  land !  Too 
much,  it  will  be  replied;  but  how  hard — how  impossible  to 
eflPect  it,  or  attain  almost  any  progress  toward  it !  Hard  it  is, 
but  not  impossible,  if  first  we  entreat  Him  to  go  with  us  '  with 
whom  all  things  are  possible,'  and  then  go  forth,  'enduring 
all  things  for  the  elect's  sake'  that  they  may  obtain  salvation, 
and  '  becoming  all  things  to  all  men  that  we  may  win  some.' 

Let  us  glance  now  at  the  progress  of  the  Christian  Church 
in  Jerusalem,  as  brought  out  in  these  verses.  Many  of  the 
•daughters  of  Jesusalem'  had  been  added  to  the  Church,  mul- 
titudes both  of  men  and  women — 'and  the  number  of  the  dis- 
ciples multiplied  in  Jerusalem  greatly.'  Soon,  however, '  they 
were  all  scattered  abroad  throughout  the  regions  of  Judea  and 
Samaria,  except  the  apostles;  and,  therefore,  they  that  were 
scattered  abroad  went  everywhere  preaching  the  word.'  The 
'Beloved,'  who  walked  with  the  two  disciples  as  they  went  to 
the  village  of  Emmaus,  did  not  leave  them  when  they  thus 
'  went  forth  into  the  fields  and  lodged  in  the  villages,'  hut 
'  wrought  with  them,  and  confirmed  the  word  with  signs  follow- 
ing.'  These  outfields  were  M'ithin  the  vast  enclosure  of  the 
Lord's  vineyard,  which  embraces  the  whole  world,  every  part 
of  which  Mill  yet  be  cultivated  as  the  garden   of  the  Lord. 


450  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  CHAP.   VIII.    1. 

There  were  two  reasons  for  the  disciples  going  forth  from  Je- 
rusalem— the  first  was,  that  they  could  no  longer  openly  pro- 
fess Christ,  and  hold  communion  with  him  there,  on  account 
of  the  persecution.  The  Bride  therefore  asks  him  to  'go  with 
her  to  the  villages,'  where  there  was  greater  liberty,  that  the 
Church  might  there  hold  unfettered  fellowship  with  the  King; 
or  in  allegoric  language  '  there  will  I  give  thee  my  loves,'  in 
praise,  and  prayer,  and  the  breaking  of  bread.  The  next  ob- 
ject was,  that  they  might  see  'whether  the  tender  grape  ap- 
peared and  the  pomegranate  budded;'  might  inquire  into  the 
progress  of  the  Gospel  throughout  the  country,  and  might 
hasten  that  progress  by  preaching  the  word  of  the  kingdom. 
Both  ends  were  fully  attained.  Of  Samaria  it  is  said  that 
'there  was  great  joy  in  that  city,' and  therefore  much  com- 
munion with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and  concerning  the  rest 
of  the  country  it  is  written  that  'they  preached  the  gospel  in 
many  villages  of  the  Samaritans,' — the  'vine  flourishing,  the 
tender  grape  appearing.'  But  in  those  villages  there  were 
'fruits  new  and  old  for  the  Beloved;'  for  Christ  while  on  earth, 
taking  the  Bride  along  with  him  in  the  work,  had  already 
sown  good  seed  in  those  fields  which  had  '  whitened  even  then 
unto  harvest.'  Thus  in  her  visit  to  this  outfield  vineyard,  the 
Bride  gathered  'the  old  fruits  laid  up  in  the  gates'  of  Sychar; 
new  first-fruits  of  the  Gospel  by  the  Spirit  now  given ;  and 
'all  manner  of  pleasant  fruits  for  the  Beloved';  out  of  those 
villages  of  the  Samaritans. 

THE   VERY   BROTHER. 

0  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother,  that  sucked  the  breasts  of  my 
mother!  tvhen  I  should  find  thee  without,  I  would  Jciss  thee;  yea. 
I  should  not  be  despised. — 

0  would  thou  .'IS  my  Brother  wert, 
My  mother's  sucking  child ! 

I'd  kiss  and  press  thee  to  my  breast, 

And  should  not  be  reviled. 
Yea  in  the  openest,  patent  place, 

Without  a  blush  through  shame, 

1  would  with  joyful  arms  embrace 
The  Babe  of  Bethlehem. — Erskine. 


'CMAP.    VIII.    1.  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  451 

These  words,  considered  as  proceeding  from  the  Hebrew  Pa- 
triarchs, present  an  earnest  prayer  for  the  incarnation  of  the 
Eternal  \yord,  when  he  should  become  'Immanuel,  God  with 
us.'  From  us,  however,  and  from  the  early  Christians,  they  are  a 
natural  expression  of  desire  both  for  greater  intimacy  of  fellow- 
ship with  Jesus,  already  come,  and  having  called  the  Church 
'  his  sister '  and  '  spouse ';  and  for  his  appearing  again,  when 
we  shall  see  him  not  merely  in  spirit,  but  as  the  Word  made 
flesh,  and  the  First-born  among  many  brethren.  What  follows 
concerning  the  '  leading  him  into  her  mother's  house,'  and 
the  holy  repose  and  communion  implied  by  '  the  left  hand  un- 
der the  head  and  the  right  hand  embracing,'  along  with  the 
charge  to  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  not  to  disturb  his  rest, 
all  finds  a  natural  and  ample  parallel  in  the  sequel  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  evangelizing  of  the  Samaritans.  The  conclusion 
of  this  outfield  visit  supposes  a  return  of  the  Bride  along  with 
the  King  to  her  mother's  house,  which  accords  with  the  re- 
cord— '  and  they,  when  they  had  testified  and  preached  the 
word  of  the  Lord,  returned  to  Jerusalem.'  When  the  Bride  has 
returned  with  the  King  to  her  mother's  home,  then  follows 
the  last  holy  rest  recorded  in  the  Song,  which  the  daughters 
of  Jerusalem  were  charged  not  to  disturb ;  and  in  like  manner, 
after  the  apostles  have  returned  to  Jerusalem,  we  have  the  last 
scriptural  record  of  divine  repose  enjoyed  by  the  Church,  in  the 
remarkable  words — ^then  had  the  churches  rest  throughout  all 
Judea,  and  Galilee,  and  Samaria,  and  were  edified;  and  walk- 
ing in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  and  in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  were  multiplied '  (Acts  ix). 

'  O  that  thou  wert  as  ray  brother,  that  sucked  the  breasts  of 
my  mother !'  does  not  necessarily  in  this  verse,  and  cannot  in 
the  next,  mean  an  infant  brother,  and  therefore  we  think  it 
preferable  to  understand  the  expression  simply  as  referring  to 
a  brother  of  the  bride  born  of  the  same  mother — implying  the 
nearest  possible  kindred.  To  such  a  brother,  though  not  a 
child,  affection  might  be  openly  shown;  as  of  old  regarding  a 
more  distant  relation  it  is  recorded,  that  when  Jacob  saw 
Rachel  the  daughter  of  La  ban  his  mother's  brother,  meeting 
c3 


452  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  CHAP.  VIII.  1. 

her  *  without '  in  the  presence  of  the  shepherds,  '  he  kissed 
Rachel,  and  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept.'  Such  a  Brother  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  become  to  us  in  being  '  born  of  the  seed 
of  Abraham,  and  becoming  flesh  of  our  flesh  and  bone  of  our 
bone.' 

In  the  beginning  of  this  particular  Song,  the  King  calls  the 
Bride  his  sister  for  the  last  time.  After  the  greatest  favour 
and  nearness,  she  had  experienced  distance  and  displeasure; 
he  who  had  as  a  brother  come  into  his  garden  along  with  her, 
had  afterwards  been  rej)ulsed  in  his  condescension,  and  had 
showed  himself  as  the  great  King  that  wdll  not  be  mocked.  It 
was  a  great  lesson,  a  lesson  never  to  be  forgot  by  all  who  have 
learned  it;  and  Jesus  who  had  been  slighted  in  his  gracious 
presence,  was  never  so  magnified  as  in  his  lamented  absence. 
But  now  the  Bride  having  obtained  full  reconciliation,  desires 
also  the  renewal  of  this  teaching  regarding  the  glorious  hu- 
man nature,  and  human  compassions,  of  Jesus  Christ — 'the 
High-Priest  that  can  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmi- 
ties.' 'O  that  thou  wert  as  my  brother!'  had  been  taught  us 
when  we  least  looked  for  it,  but  lost  again  when  we  made 
light  of  it  and  least  expected  to  lose  it;  and  is  restored — we 
know  not  when,  but  surely  at  that  time  when  the  soul  is  re- 
newed ao;ain  unto  'first  love' — a  season  that  comes  too  late 
with  most,  and  never,  it  may  be,  with  many  while  they  re- 
main on  earth.  But  let  us  pray  for  it,  plead  for  it,  press  for 
it, — and  who  can  tell  the  glorious  issue? 

When  I  should  find  thee  without,  I  would  kiss  thee,  yea  I  should, 
not  be  despised. — It  is  not  recorded  that  any  man  ever  kissed 
Jesus  on  earth,  save  Judas  the  traitor;  he  found  him,  for  he 
knew  the  place — he  found  him,  for  he  knew  the  man — he 
found  him,  for  he  had  been  to  him  'as  a  brother'  and  as  the 
son  of  his  mother — he  found  him  '  without,'  and  openly,  in  the 
presence  of  the  multitude,  kissed  him. 

Judas,  dost  thou  betray  me  with  a  kiss? 
Canst  thou  find  hell  about  my  lips,  and  miss 
Of  life,  just  at  the  gates  of  life  ond  bliss? 

Herbert. 


CHAP.  VIII.  1.  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  453 

Therefore  the  true  follower  of  Jesus  is  oft  afraid  and  ashamed 
to  make  open  profession  of  love  to  him.  Yet  be  not  ashamed 
of  Him,  lest  he  be  ashamed  of  thee,  but  seek  such  fellowship 
with  him,  and  such  owning  on  his  part  of  thy  kindred  to  him, 
that  all  men  will  know  and  acknowledge  that  he  is  toward 
thee  as  a  brother.  Then  they  will  neither  wonder  nor  de- 
spise, if  thou  dost  always  and  openly  testify  thy  love;  but  be 
constrained  to  conclude  that  from  one  so  nearly  related  to  him 
and  so  fully  owned  by  him,  this  constant  expression  of  love  is 
only  due  and  becoming.  And,  still  more,  within  thine  own 
heart  wilt  thou  have  holy  boldness  and  liberty,  when  Jesus 
draws  near  to  thee  as  a  Brother,  permitting  and  inviting  free- 
dom of  access  to  himself  by  the  Spirit.  Yet,  meanwhile,  it 
is  with  us  but  Hooking  through  a  glass  darkly';  it  is  with  Je- 
sus but  'showing  himself  through  the  lattice';  and  never  fully 
shall  we  find  him  without  and  kiss  him,  till  we  see  Him  face 
to  face  '  whom  having  not  seen  we  love.'  And,  as  proceeding 
from  the  lips  of  the  early  Christian  disciples,  such  a  meaning 
of  the  words  is  peculiarly  appropriate;  for  their  last  familiar 
intercourse  with  Jesus,  the  last  time  he  wspoke  to  them  in  the 
full  intimacy  of  friendship,  was  in  the  words,  'could  ye  not 
watch  with  me  one  hour? — open  to  me  my  sister,  for  my  head 
is  filled  with  dew,  and  my  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night.' 
From  that  night  even  till  this  day  Jesus  hath  never  been  kissed 
save  by  Judas  the  traitor — a  closer  spiritual  communion  was 
soon  granted,  but  along  with  greater  outward  distance  and 
majesty.  'Touch  me  not/  was  the  authoritative  command  in 
all  future  intercourse;  but  Jesus  in  the  same  breath  referred 
to  a  time  when  such  restraint  would  be  removed,  'touch  me 
not,  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father ;'  alluding,  doubt- 
less, to  the  same  season  which  he  promised  in  his  last  sup- 
per, when  he  would  drink  '  the  fruit  of  the  vine  new  with 
them  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Father.'  Longing  for  that  day, 
the  Church  might  then,  and  may  now,  truly  pray — ^O  that 
thou  wert  as  my  Brother!  when  I  should  find  thee  without  I 
would  kiss  thee;  I  would  cause  thee  to  drink  of  spiced  wine 
of  the  j  nice  of  my  pomegranate.' 


454  THE    VERY    BROTHER.  CHAP.  VIII.    2. 

/  icould  lead  thee,  and  bring  thee  into  my  mother^  house. — As 
the  believer  returns  from  all  works  and  duties  to  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  saying  'O  that  thou  wert  as  my  Brother!'  so,  having 
found  Christ  again  for  his  own  soul,  he  has  a  returning  and 
increasing  desire  to  bring  him  into  the  house  of  his  mother, 
to  abide  there  continually.  The  '  house  of  our  mother'  we 
have  considered  as  the  Church,  and  as  the  human  family;  and 
let  us  now  add,  the  family  of  the  domestic  circle.  We  inquire 
not  now  after  the  Bride's  mother;  but  taking  the  simple  idea 
that  her  mother's  house  is  her  home,  where  she  has  dwelt  from 
infancy,  where  she  still  dwells,  and  where  she  desires  the  Be- 
loved of  her  soul  to  dwell  along  with  her,  we  have  the  view 
of  Christ  brought  into  the  family.  And  there  is  not  a  more 
blessed  leading  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  than  when  we  are  emboldened 
to  conduct  him  into  our  home,  our  hearth,  our  fireside,  our 
family  circle,  our  family  table,  our  family  altar.  But  whether 
as  the  head  or  as  the  member  of  a  house,  we  must  present  the 
prayer — '  O  that  thou  wert  as  my  Brother !'  to  accom2>lish  this 
acreat  end  ;  for  if  we  are  going  to  introduce  one  who  is  a 
stranger  to  that  circle,  nothing  will  embolden  us  but  the  knowl- 
edge that  He  is  no  stranger  to  us,  that  he  will  own  his  brother- 
hood toward  us,  and  not  put  us  to  shame.  Happy  table  where 
the  Lord  Jesus  is  I  '  where  the  King  sitteth  at  his  table,'  making 
it  his  own,  where  the  fragrance  of  the  Spirit  fills  the  room,  and 
the  bread  is  eaten  with  gladness,  and  singleness  of  heart,  and 
the  praise  of  God;  happy  family  circle  of  which  Jesus  is  the 
centre!  saying  'I  am  in  the  midst  of  you';  happy  family  altar 
where  Jesus  is  the  High-Priest!  offering  up  with  much  in- 
cense the  morning  and  evening  prayers  and  praises.  Into  this 
home  it  is  good  to  lead  Jesus  forth  out  of  our  own  closet  when 
we  have  found  him  there;  and  into  this  home  it  is  good  to 
conduct  him  within,  out  of  the  church  when  we  have  found 
him  there;  for  nothing  tries,  and  nothing  confirms,  both  the 
relio-ion  of  the  closet  and  the  religion  of  the  sanctuary,  so  much 
as  the  religion  of  the  family.  It  stands  between  the  two,  and 
partakes  of  both ;  it  is  not  their  superior,  yet  it  is  the  first  and 
chief  of  all  the  tests  that  prove  them,  and  the  strongest  of  the 


CHAP.  VIII.    2.  THE   VERY    BROTHER.  455 

bands  that  fasten  and  make  permanent  whatever  in  them  is 
real  and  divine.  The  religion  that  will  not  carry  outward 
from  the  closet  into  the  family  is  either  hypocritical,  or  dan- 
gerously sickly  and  weak ;  and  so  is  the  religion  that  will  not 
carry  inward  from  the  house  of  God  into  a  man's  own  house. 
The  grace  of  the  closet  and  the  grace  of  the  sanctuary  are  con- 
firmed and  sealed,  when  they  have  become  also  grace  in  the 
family  and  in  the  house  of  our  mother.  Many  a  spark  that 
has  begun  to  kindle  in  the  closet,  and  many  a  spark  that  has 
begun  to  kindle  in  the  church,  has  been  quenched  by  hiding 
the  feeble  fire  from  the  family,  and  smothering  it  in  the  house- 
hold. Being  hid  there,  it  is  soon  extinguished,  both  in  secret 
and  in  the  sanctuary.  But  into  no  spot  on  all  the  earth  does 
Jesus  more  delight  to  be  led,  than  into  the  heart  of  a  home 
circle ;  nowhere  does  the  Son  of  Man  more  love  to  lay  his 
head,  than  within  the  bosom  of  a  God-fearing  family,  and 
nowhere  is  the  sound  more  welcome  in  his  ears  'I  charge  you 
not  to  awake  nor  stir  up  my  love  till  he  please; — Jesus  loved 
Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.' 

Who  would  instruct  me. — These  words  may  refer  to  the 
mother  of  the  Bride,  as  our  translation  implies;  but  the  trans- 
lation is  equally  correct  and  the  reference  much  clearer,  if, 
with  all  our  older  Bibles,  we  take  them  of  the  King.  '  There 
thou  shalt  teach  me,'  is  the  rendering  of  one;  'that  thou 
mightest  teach  me,'  of  another;  and  we  have  therefore  no  hesi- 
tation in  referring  the  expression  entirely  to  the  King — '  thou 
wouldst  instruct  me.' 

There  are  two  noble  lessons  in  these  words,  the  first  of  which 
is,  that  we  possess  all  instruction  in  Christ.  It  is  not  that  we 
bring  a  doctrine  home,  which  is  good — or  a  precept  home, 
which  is  likewise  good — but  that  we  bring  Christ  home,  '  in 
whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledo-e,' 
both  all  doctrine  and  all  precept — that  we  'hold  him  fast  and 
let  him  not  go,  till  he  hath  come  into  our  mother's  house.' 
The  next  lesson  is,  that  having  brought  him  home,  we  come 
daily,  hourly,  instantly  to  Him  for  instruction.  For  this  we 
must  believe  that  all  instruction  is  in  Him,  and  that  he  is  will- 


456  THE   VERY    BROTHER.  CHAP.  VIII.  2. 

iug  to  communicate  it  to  us  by  the  Spirit  and  the  word — as  a 
patient,  loving,  and  most  skilful  teacher.  We  must  ourselves 
'become  fools  that  we  may  be  wise/  and  babes  learning  ever  from 
his  lips,  sitting  in  our  homes  like  Mary  at  his  feet,  and  hear- 
ing his  word.  What  a  treasure  thou  hast,  whosoever  thou  art, 
that  hast  found  Jesus,  and  led  him  to  thy  home,  and  dost  pos- 
sess him  for  thy  teacher  !  In  him  thou  hast  all  knowledge : 
but  see  that  thou  prize  it,  and  wait  for  it  from  his  lips  ;  and 
remember  that  '  counsel  in  the  heart  of  a  man,'  and  most  of  all 
in  the  Son  of  Man,  'is  like  a  well  of  water,  and  that'  only  'the 
man  of  understanding  will  draw  it  out.' 

/  would  cause  thee  to  drink  of  spiced  wine  of  the  juice  of  my 
'pomegranate. — It  is  our  part  to  give  Christ  the  best  entertain- 
ment in  our  power,  to  spare  nothing  on  him,  to  gather  all  for 
him  and  present  all  to  him,  that  is  choicest  and  best.  But  the 
full  reference  of  these  words  is  to  the  final  '  marriage  of  the 
Lamb  when  his  wife  shall  have  made  herself  ready,'  and  when 
Christ  'shall  drink  the  fruit  of  the  vine  new  with  her  in  his 
Father's  kingdom.'  The  King  gave  to  the  Bride  the  solemn 
cup  of  betrothing  before  he  departed  to  the  hill  of  frankin- 
cense; and  the  Bride  calling  on  him  to  return,  promises  that 
she  will  have  prepared  for  him  the  cup  of  her  covenant  vows. 
The  cup  already  filled  was  the  King's,  and  he  gave  it  to  her  in 
covenant-pledge  that  he  would  return  for  the  marriage.  But 
it  was  rather  his  pledge  to  her  than  hers  to  him,  for  the  Bride 
was  not  yet  ready.  Till  he  come  again  she  shows  forth  His 
pledge,  and  in  so  doing  pledges  herself;  still  it  is  his  cup  of 
covenant  rather  than  hers — his  love — his  death — his  blood — 
his  seal  till  he  come.  But  when  he  comes  to  dwell  in  her 
mother's  house  for  ever,  when  lie  comes  seen  face  to  face  in  the 
flesh  as  her  Brother,  as  well  as  her  God;  then  she  is  also  ready 
with  her  full  and  everlasting  response;  then  she  presents  to 
him  her  full  covenant-pledge,  and  gives  to  him  her  wine-cup 
filled  with  the  juice  of  the  pomegranate;  her  solemn  pledge 
of  everlasting  marriage  to  the  Lamb.  It  is  '  spiced '  wine,  be- 
cause, though  spices  are  never  once  introduced  in  the  Song  in 
the  King's  absence,  the  supposition  here  is,  that  he  will  have 


CHAP.  VIII.  3,  4.  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  457 

returned  from  the  mountain  of  spices,  and  her  spiced  wine  will 
then  be  presented  to  him  in  person. 

His  left  hand  should  be  under  my  head,  and  his  right  Iiand 
should  embrace  me.  I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem! 
that  ye  stir  not  up  nor  awake  my  love,  until  he  please. — The 
charge  not  to  disturb  the  rest  occurs  thrice,  but  the  'left  hand 
and  the  right  hand'  occur  only  once  actually,  and  this  second 
time  conditionally.  This  affords  another  out  of  constantly  re- 
curring examples,  of  the  singular  structure  of  every  clause, 
and  the  nice  selection  of  every  word  in  the  Book.  It  is  only 
when  the  aged  Simeon  embraces  Christ  in  the  temple,  that  the 
left  hand  is  under  the  head  with  the  right  hand  embracing; 
and  all  that  the  Bride  now  speaks  of  is,  not  a  present  embrac- 
ing of  Christ,  but  merely  such  a  prospective  embracing,  in  the 
day  when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  be  revealed.  When  he  is 
again  seen  as  a  Brother,  his  left  hand  will  again  sustain  and 
his  right  hand  again  embrace ;  but  the  Bridegroom  of  the 
Church  will  no  longer  then  be  the  little  child  held  in  her  arms 
as  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem,  but  the  glorious  and  Holy  One,  sus- 
taining and  comforting  her  with  his  own  '  everlasting  arms 
beneath  her.' 

But  what  is  hope  in  the  one  verse  is  realization  in  the  next, 
as  is  constantly  the  case  throughout  the  Psalms;  the  soul 
following  hard  after  God,  and  quickly  passing  into  actual  joy 
in  his  salvation.  It  is  a  holy  quiet  resting,  neither  in  Jesus 
manifest  in  the  flesh  nor  in  Jesus  manifest  in  glory,  but  in  the 
Spirit  revealing  Jesus  as  the  one  object  of  desire  and  the  one 
ground  of  hope,  and  giving  'joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory ' 
in  an  unseen  Christ — Christ  not  seen  yet  believed  on,  not  seen 
yet  beloved.  There  are  two  Canticles  which  have  not  this 
conclusion — the  third  and  the  last.  The  nature  of  the  repose 
is  a  transient  but  most  blessed  rest  and  presence  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  breaking  in  upon  absence  and  distance.  It  is 
'  the  lodging  of  the  wayfaring  man  that  turneth  aside  to  tarry 
for  a  night ' — every  hour  of  the  repose  is  precious — every  hour 
uncertain  ;  he  was  absent  before — he  will  depart  again — pro- 
long the  visit  to  the  utmost,  for,  if  lost,  it  may  not  soon  be 


458  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  CHAP.  VIII.  3,  4. 

recalled.  In  the  third  Song  Christ  is  present,  and  is  not 
brought  home  by  persuasion  into  the  home  of  the  Bride's 
mother — he  has  prepared  his  own  chariot — he  has  come  into 
his  own  garden — he  has  eaten  his  own  fruits  ;  he  is  neither  a 
wayfarer  passing  through,  nor  an  invited  guest  in  the  house 
of  the  Bride,  but  himself  the  host — though  making  all  things 
common  between  himself  and  his  spouse.  It  is  his  wine,  his 
honey,  his  garden,  his  chariot  and  chair  of  state,  as  well  as  his 
mother,  and  his  crown.  There  is  both  less  need  and  less  op- 
portunity for  the  Bride  to  charge  Jerusalem's  daughters,  for 
the  Bridegroom  is  himself  taking  charge  of  all  the  bridal  feast. 
In  the  final  Song  again,  it  is  not  fit  that  the  conclusion  should 
be  repose,  because  the  King's  Son  has  gone  into  a  far  country 
to  receive  his  kingdom,  and  has  not  returned.  In  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Song  it  is  meet  that  the  hasty  and  broken  visits, 
which  he  pays  to  the  Church  and  to  the  soul  at  intervals, 
should  be  improved  to  the  uttermost;  but  in  the  end  of  all  the 
Song  there  is  a  greater  object  still,  in  the  final  and  eternal  re- 
turn— the  final  and  everlasting  union — the  final  and  unbroken 
rest.  Had  all  the  history  terminated  with  an  earnestly  cherished  • 
repose,  we  might  have  mistaken  as  if  this  were  '  our  rest,  and 
this  our  continuing  city';  but  the  broken,  longing,  and  un- 
satisfied close  of  all,  teaches  us  that  'we  are  saved  by  hope'; 
and  that  we  are  to  look  for  a  city  to  come,  and  a  Saviour  to 
come,  saying  'Come,  Lord  Jesus!  come  quickly!' 

But  at  the  close  of  this  Canticle  we  have  one  of  those  re- 
freshing visits  of  the  Spirit,  which  we  should  cherish  and  im- 
prove to  the  utmost.  Such  a  season  of  'rest'  is  a  time  for 
'edification';  for  the  building  and  establishing  of  the  soul  in 
the  faith  of  God's  elect.  It  is  a  time  for  'walking  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,'  with  earnest  walking  onward  in  the  course,  with 
careful  daily  walking  out  and  in,  with  deep  holy  fear  in  the 
midst  of  rest  and  joy,  and  with  a  constant  sense  of  the  great 
and  immediate  presence  of  the  Lord,  It  is  a  time  for  'walk- 
ing in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost,'  in  the  consolations  of 
the  Spirit,  in  the  joy  of  spiritual  liberty,  in  the  life  of  spiritual- 
mindedness,  in  spiritual  communion  with  the  Father  and  the 


CHAP.  VIII.  3,  4  THE   VERY   BROTHER.  459 

Son,  and  in  spiritual  fellowship  with  the  saints.  It  is,  lastly, 
a  season  for  the  ^  multiplying '  of  the  churches  ;  for  increasing 
the  number  of  the  called,  and  justified,  and  sanctified;  for  em- 
ploying 'the  joy  of  God's  salvation  to  teach  transgressors  his 
ways,  with  the  assurance  that  sinners  shall  be  converted  unto 
him.'  How  earnestly  should  we  seek  such  a  season !  if  granted, 
how  carefully  should  we  cherish  it,  and  how  solemnly  should 
we  charge  ourselves  and  others  not  to  abridge  its  period,  or 
interrupt  its  holy  quiet — 'I  charge  you,  O  daughters  of  Je- 
rusalem! that  ye  stir  not  up  nor  awake  my  love,  till  he  please.' 


480  DIVINE   LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  5-7. 


XXIII. 

DIVINE  LOVE. 

ITS  RELYING  WEAKNESS — ITS  SIGNET-LIKE  ADHESION — ITS  DEATH- 
LIKE STRENGTH  AND  GRAVE-LIKE  CRUELTY — ITS  VEHEMENT  FLAME 
AND   QUENCHLESS   FIRE — ITS   PRICELESS   WORTH. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness,  leaning  upon  her  be- 
loved? I  raised  thee  up  under  the  apple-tree :  there  thy  mother  brought 
thee  forth ;  there  she  brought  thee  forth  thai  bare  thee.  Set  me  as  a  seal 
upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm:  for  love  is  strong  as  death; 
jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave :  the  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire,  which 
hath  a  most  vehement  flame.  Many  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither 
can  the  floods  drown  it:  if  a  man  would  give  all  the  substance  of  his  house 
for  love,  it  would  utterly  be  contemned. — Chap.  viii.  5-7. 

Receiving  the  whole  of  this  concluding  Canticle  as  having 
special  reference  to  the  Little  Sister  and  the  calling  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, we  find  throughout  an  exact  correspondence  with  the 
progress  of  the  early  Church,  as  recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles.  The  hinge  of  the  entire  book  is,  communion  between 
Christ  and  the  Church,  and  therefore  all  other  things  are  re- 
ferred to  chiefly  in  relation  to  that  communion.  The  perse- 
cution that  scattered  the  disciples  from  their  mother's  house 
ill  Jerusalem,  is  alluded  to  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  interrupted 
fellowship  with  the  Beloved;  and  is  introduced  in  the  way  of 
invitation  for  Him  to  go  forth  to  the  fields  and  villages,  where 
this  holy  communion  might  be  enjoyed  in  peace.  The  perse- 
cution, when  past,  is  now  fully  brought  out;  but  as  in  other 
cases,  only  in  relation  to  love,  and  touching  its  effect  on  divine 
communion.  ^ Death  and  the  grave,  floods  and  many  waters,' 
as  well  as  trials  regarding  '  the  substance  of  a  man's  house,' 
are  sung  of  as  subjects  with  which  the  Bride  had  become  famil- 
iar, and  with  whose  terrors  she  has  been  grappling.  But  it  is 
only  to  bring  out  the  glorious  facts,  that  they  had  'taken  joy- 


OlIAP.  VIII.    5-7.  DIVINE    LOVE.  461 

fully  the  spoiling  of  their  goods'  and  had  counted  them  nothing 
for  love;  that  in  the  face  of  death  love  had  not  died;  and 
that  '  the  floods  and  deep  waters  had  passed  over  their  souls/ 
without  quenching  the  divine  love  that  burned  within  them. 

Along  with  this  reference  to  the  past  persecutions  which 
had  issued  in  the  evangelizing  of  Samaria,  there  is  now  speci- 
ally to  be  introduced  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles,  in  the  betroth- 
ing of  the  little  Sister.  But  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  by 
pre-eminence  is  Paul,  who  is  personally  also  pre-eminent  as  a 
'pattern  for  all  believers  after  him,  because  toward  him  especi- 
ally God  had  showed  forth  all  long-suffering';  like  the  thief 
on  the  cross  in  his  'birth  out  of  due  time,'  but  better  fitted  for 
a  pattern,  because  he  was  not  only  to  die,  but  to  live,  to  the 
honour  of  Christ  and  the  glory  of  the  Father.  Previous  to 
the  discussion  of  what  is  to  be  done  for  the  younger  Sister,  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem  inquire  'who  is  this  that  cometh  up 
from  the  wilderness?'  and  in  words  singularly  correspondent 
Paul  narrates  his  own  history, '  neither  went  I  up  to  Jerusalem, 
but  I  went  into  Arabia,  and  returned  again  unto  Damascus — • 
afterwards  I  came  into  the  regions  of  Syria  and  Cilicia,  and 
was  unknown  by  face  unto  the  churches  of  Judea.'  These 
churches,  not  knowing  him  by  face,  inquire — '  who  is  this  that 
cometh  up'  to  Jerusalem?  but  they  add — 'leaning  on  her  Be- 
loved,' or,  in  the  historical  terms,  'they  glorified  God  in  me.' 

Then  follows  the  answer  to  the  inquiry,  'Who  is  this?'  and 
it  is  given  in  the  words  of  the  King  himself;  just  as  Paul, 
several  times  over,  rehearses  the  history  of  his  own  conversion, 
and  repeats  the  words  of  Jesus  toward  him.  'I  raised  thee  up 
under  the  apple-tree'  are  the  first  words  that  have  been  uttered 
by  the  King  since  the  Bride  went  down  into  the  garden  of 
nuts  ;  and  Christ's  appearance  to  Paul  contains  the  only  words 
that  he  has  addressed  personally  to  the  Church  since  his  ascen- 
sion from  Mount  Olivet.  The  King  never  speaks  again  in 
the  Song  as  one  present  and  visible;  for  the  only  other  words 
he  utters  are  his  invitation  to  the  Bride  as  dwelling  in  the 
gardens,  neither  to  come  to  him  nor  look  on  him,  but  simply 
to  'let  him  hear  her  voice;'  and  her  call  in  reply  to  that  invi- 
tation is,  to  'turn,  and  be  like  a  roe  on  the  mountains  of  spices,' 


462  DIVINE    LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  5. 

obviously  addressing  him  both  as  distant  and  unseen.  Here, 
however,  although  there  is  great  majesty,  the  whole  utterance 
is  of  one  present  and  visible,  but  it  is  for  the  last  time.  Christ, 
in  like  manner,  has  never  spoken  directly  to  men,  since  he 
spoke  to  Saul  on  the  way  to  Damascus ;  all  his  subsequent  in- 
terviews with  Paul,  with  Peter,  with  John,  have  been  by  an- 
gelic messengers,  or  spiritual  vision,  or  communications  of  the 
Holy  Ghost — Hast  of  all  he  was  seen  of  me  also.'  The  simi- 
larity of  the  King's  last  appearance  in  the  Song,  and  Christ's 
last  ^pearance  to  the  Church,  is  too  obvious  to  demand  de- 
tail— '  I  raised  thee  up  under  the  apple-tree — I  fell  to  the 
ground  and  he  said.  Rise  and  stand  upon  thy  feet.'  'There 
thy  mother  brought  thee  forth,  there  she  brought  thee  forth 
that  bare  thee — God  separated  me  from  my  mother's  womb 
and  called  me  by  his  grace  ;*last  of  all  he  was  seen  of  me  also, 
as  of  one  born  out  of  due  time.' 


THE  EELYIIfG  WEAKNESS  OF  LOVE. 

Who  is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness  leaning  upon 
her  Beloved  f — The  last  stage  of  the  true  believer's  life  is  char- 
acterized by  pilgrimage,  by  weakness,  by  dependence,  and  love. 
The  Bride  comes  up  early  from  the  wilderness,  but  had  for  a 
time  been  overcome,  and  had  made  the  world  her  home,  sleep- 
ing in  security ;  but  she  has  been  chastened  and  restored,  and 
now  commences  her  journey  anew,  as  for  its  last  period.  S-he 
is  a  willing  pilgrim  and  stranger  on  earth,  is  looking  straight 
to  the  eternal  inheritance,  and  is  leaving  the  world  as  a  wil- 
derness behind  her.  It  becomes  to  her  more  and  more  a  barren 
desert,  and  she  is  dissevered  from  it  more  completely  every 
day.  It  is  one  thing  to  own,  and  even  to  feel,  the  world  to  be 
a  desert,  and  often  quite  another  to  quit  that  desert.  Many 
of  the  inhabitants  of  this  world's  wilderness  are  complaining 
of  it  as  dry  and  desolate  and  disappointing,  yet  roam  wearily 
through  it  without  any  thought  of  forsaking  it.  But  the  Bride 
of  Jesus  comes  up  from  the  wilderness,  moves  from  it  daily 
forward  to  Zion,  rises  from  it  daily  upward  to  God,  and  'sets 
her  affections  on  heaven,  where  Christ  sitteth  at  God's  right 


CHAP.  Ylir.  5.  ITS    RELYING    WEAKNESS.  463 

hand.'  How  good  it  is  to  have  all  the  affections  transferred, 
to  have  their  manifold  roots  transplanted,  from  earth  into 
heaven,  that  in  the  final  transition  there  may  be  little  to  be 
done  except  liberating  the  spirit  to  let  it  go  home — to  the  home 
prepared  by  the  blood  of  Christ — to  the  home  prepared  by  the 
Spirit  lodging  the  affections  there ! 

O  loose  this  frame,  this  knot  of  man  untie, 

That  my  free  soul  may  use  her  wing, 
Which  is  now  pinion'd  with  mortality, 

As  an  entangled,  hamper'd  thing. 
What  have  I  left  that  I  should  stay  and  groan? 

The  most  of  me  to  heaven  is  fled; 
My  thoughts  and  joys  are  all  pack'd  up  and  gone, 

And  for  their  old  acquaintance  plead. — Herbert. 

But  the  Bride  is  coming  up  in  weakness,  for  she  is  faint 
and  weary,  and  needs  the  stay  of  the  Beloved's  arm  on  which 
she  leans.  'When  thou  wast  young  thou  girdedst  thyself  and 
walkedst  whither  thoi^  wouldest';  even  in  spiritual  youth 
there  is  often  much  self-girding  and  self-guidance ;  and  this 
strength  has  been  '  weakened  in  the  way '  that  by  becoming 
weak  we  may  be  really  strong.  In  the  youth  of  pilgrimage 
there  may  be  also  bodily  vigour  and  animal  spirit,  which  both 
help  and  hinder  the  growth  of  the  inner  man — help,  by  natural 
energy  transferred  into  spiritual  faith  and  vigour — hinder,  by 
natural  energy  and  hope  degenerated  into  carnal  strength  and 
confidence.  These  features  of  nature  are  gone ;  the  tried  pil- 
grim feels  his  own  weakness,  and  is  more  than  ever  weaned 
from  making  his  own  arm  his  strength.  It  is  an  exceeding 
great  progress  thus  to  be  enabled  and  delighted  to  say — 'He 
must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease.' 

Yet  further,  the  Bride  is  coming  up  in  dependence  and  in 
love,  'leaning  on  her  Beloved.'  The  believer  now  clings  to 
Christ  more  than  ever  in  love,  and  more  than  ever  leans  upon 
him  in  childlike  trust.  His  arm  is  weak,  and  needs  support; 
but  his  heart  is  confiding,  and  grasps  the  support  that  it  needs. 
Bride  of  the  Lamb!  you  leaned  erewhile  but  lightly  on  that 
mighty  arm;  as  you  walked  with  him  through  the  desert  your 


464  DIVINE    LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  5. 

hand  or  your  arm  rested  on  His,  as  one  that  desired  company 
and  counsel  rather  than  sustaining  strength ;  as  one  also  par- 
tially distrustful  of  his  arm,  and  afraid  to  offend  or  to  burden 
by  leaning  too  much  on  its  support.  But  now  you  are  weak, 
and  you  lean  not  your  hand  only,  but  the  whole  weight  of  all 
your  concerns  in  soul  and  body,  on  that  everlasting  strength: 
now  also  you  believe  and  know  that  his  arm  loves  to  be  leaned 
upon,  and  trustingly  you  rest  on  it;  yea,  with  all  your  bur- 
dens on  your  arm,  you  grasp  that  strong  One's  arm,  that  you 
and  your  burdens  may  lean  together  upon  it.  Thus  you  walk 
through  the  wilderness  ;  yet  not  as  one  hindering  or  wearying 
your  Lord,  but  as  a  Bride  resting  her  arm  on  her  Husband, 
you  go  forward  to  the  marriage  feast  above,  'leaning  on  your 
Beloved.'  In  youth  you  '  mounted  up  with  wings  as  eagles,' 
when  his  banner  over  you  was  love — in  manhood  you  '  ran  and 
weaned  not,'  even  when  you  sought  him  sorrowing  through 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem — and  in  age  the  lowly  blessing  is 
yours,  that  'you  shall  walk  and  not  fjiint.' 

I  raised  thee  up  under  the  apple-tree;  there  thy  mother  brought 
thee  forth;  there  she  brought  thee  forth  that  bare  thee. — We  have 
had  the  apple  or  fruitful  tree  already,  and  we  know  that  it  is 
the  emblem  of  the  'Beloved  among  the  sons.'  But  this  fruit- 
bearing  tree  is  Christ  upon  the  cross ;  it  is  not  Christ  simply 
in  himself,  for  he  said  'except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the 
ground  and  die  it  abideth  alone,  but  if  it  die  it  bringeth  forth 
much  fruit';  but  it  is  'Christ  crucified.'  That  tree  which 
Jesus  bore  to  Calvary,  and  which  there  bore  him,  was  full  of 
rich  fruit  unto  God  and  of  life-giving  fruit  for  us,  when  all 
others  were  barren  trees  of  the  wood.  That  apple-tree,  that 
cross  with  Christ  upon  it,  afforded  thick  shade  from  the  burn- 
ing rays  of  Jehovah's  wrath,  when  all  other  trees  were  withered 
and  leafless;  and  in  that  very  hour  Jesus  called  it  'the  green 
tree,'  when  the  rest  were  dry.  'Under  that  apple-tree  Christ 
raised  us  up '  out  of  our  mortal  sleep,  from  weakness  into 
strength,  from  sickness  into  health,  from  death  into  life.  Nor 
need  we  wonder  if,  in  the  following  clauses,  the  veil  of  the 
allegory  appears  thinner  and   more  transparent  than  it  has 


CHAP.  VIII.  5.  ITS   RELYING    WEAKNESS.  465 

hitherto  been ;  for  this  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  this  last 
Song  throughout.  'Solomon  had  a  vineyard  which  he  let  out 
to  keepers'  is  indeed  parabolic  language,  but  tlie  image  is  so 
frequent  throughout  all  the  Scriptures,  that  we  almost  forget 
its  figurative  character.  So  the  commencement  of  this  special 
Song,  'who  is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wilderness  lean- 
ing on  her  Beloved?'  begins  to  draw  the  veil  aside;  for  the 
previous  inquiry,  '  who  is  this  that  cometh  up  from  the  wil- 
derness like  pillars  of  smoke?'  was  within  the  limits,  not  of 
actual  but,  of  possible  occurrence.  It  might  have  been  that 
the  earthly  Solomon  and  his  royal  bride  had  emerged  together 
from  the  desert  in  a  princely  palanquin;  but  the  'coming  up 
from  the  wilderness  leaning  on  her  Beloved'  never  could  have 
occurred  to  any  Bride  of  Solomon.  The  dependent  weakness 
of  the  Bride  having  thus  been  brought  out,  it  is  only  a  step 
further  to  trace  this  weakness  back  to  helpless  infancy.  As 
the  apostles  in  their  epistles  are  employed  by  the  Spirit  to  take 
up  and  expand  the  seeds  of  truth  that  are  in  the  words  of  Je- 
sus, so  Ezekiel  does  in  this  instance  with  the  words  of  Solomon; 
but  the  prophet  commences  with  the  outcast  infant,  and  con- 
cludes with  the  full-grown  bride  arrayed  in  'excellent  orna- 
ments'; while  the  King  begins  by  her  perfect  comeliness  with 
rows  of  jewels  and  chains  of  gold,  and  now  retraces  her  his- 
tory to  its  helpless  origin.  '  I  am  black  as  the  tents  of  Kedar ' 
is  the  confession  Solomon  puts  into  the  mouth  of  the  Bride; 
'  thy  father  was  an  Amorite  and  thy  mother  a  Hittite  '  is  the 
corresponding  account  by  Ezekiel.  '  Under  the  apple-tree  thy 
mother  brought  thee  forth,  there  she  brought  thee  forth  that 
bare  thee — thou  wast  cast  out  in  the  open  field  in  the  day  that 
thou  wast  born.  I  raised  thee  up  under  the  apple-tree — none 
eye  pitied  thee,  I  passed  by  thee,  I  said  unto  thee,  Live!'  Un- 
der the  shadow  of  the  cross  the  outcast,  helpless,  soul  is  taken 
up  and  owned  by  Jesus,  and  there  the  word  'Live!'  first  sounds 
in  the  ears  of  the  dying.  Tlie  apple-tree,  believer,  beneath 
which  thou  hast  often  sat  with  great  delight  while  its  fruit  was 
sweet  to  thy  taste,  is  the  same  under  which  thou  wast  also 
born — there  was  thy  second  birth  by  the  Spirit — there,  when 


466  DIVINE   LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  6. 

thou  was  old,  thou  wast  born  again  and  didst  become  a  little 
child.  It  was  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Son  of  Man,  lifted 
up  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  that  the 
Spirit  breathed  on  thee  as  he  willed,  and  thou  wast  a  new  crea- 
ture. The  tree  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  with  its  awful  curse, 
convinced  thee  in  part  that  thou  wast  condemned ;  but  it  was 
the  tree  of  the  cross,  rich  with  the  fruit  of  life,  that  enabled 
thee  fully  to  own  the  conviction  and  say  to  the  judge,  Thou 
art  just  in  condemning.  It  was,  therefore,  at  the  foot  of  that 
tree,  that  thou  didst  fall  down  among  the  dead;  but  the  tree 
of  life  was  there,  there  wast  thou  brought  forth,  for  thy  new 
birth  was  there.  There  Christ  gave  thee  breath  of  life — there 
he  owned  thee  and  raised  thee  up — there  he  took  thee  in  his 
arms  and  blessed  thee,  as  a  little  child  entered  into  the  kingdom 
ofGod. 

THE  SIGNET-LIKE  ADHESION  OF  DIVINE  LOVE. 

Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart. — This  is  in  its  own  character 
one  of  the  most  intense  entreaties  in  the  Song,  yet  having  a 
character  peculiarly  its  own.  It  indicates  presence ;  yet  with 
the  certainty  of  future,  and  even  early,  absence.  It  is  not — 
Tell  me  where  thou  feedest,  seeking  for  an  absent  Christ; 
neither  is  it — I  charge  you  that  ye  stir  not  up  my  love  till  he 
please,  as  if  he  were  remaining;  nor  is  it — I  sat  down  under 
the  apple-tree,  for  that  refreshment  has  been  enjoyed,  and  she 
must  be  up  and  journeying  onward.  But  it  is,  'Set  me  as  a 
seal  upon  thine  heart  whithersoever  thou  goest,  and  wherever 
thou  art;  the  Bride,  leaning  on  the  Beloved's  arm,  entreats — 
Loose  not  thine  arm  from  mine,  till  thou  hast  set  me  as  a  seal 
upon  that  arm.  The  double  image  also,  of  heart  and  arm, 
confirms  the  view  of  the  ancient  interpreters,  who  understood 
the  'leaning'  to  mean,  on  the  bosom  of  the  Beloved;  the  Bride 
weak,  with  the  arm  resting  on  his  arm — weary,  with  the  head 
leaning  on  his  bosom.  And  now  there  must  be  some  separa- 
tion— He  must  leave  to  feed  his  flock  among  the  lilies — she 
must  go  down  to  the  vineyard  to  see  if  the  pomegranate  bud. 
But  ere  they  separate,  and  in  order  that  there  may  be  no  sepa- 


CHAP.  VIII.  6.  ITS   SIGNET-LIKE   ADIIESIOX.  467 

ration  even  for  an  instant,  she  entreats  that,  as  her  head  now 
rests  on  liis  bosom,  she  may  herself  be  fixed  there  as  a  seal — 
'Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart';  not  simply  as  a  signet 
suspended  from  the  neck  and  carried  in  the  bosom,  but  as  a 
signet  set  and  fixed  round  the  heart,  as  a  bracelet  is  round  the 
arm;  or  else,  as  a  seal  impressed  upon  the  heart — the  image 
of  the  believing  soul  forming  the  seal,  and  the  heart  of  the 
Redeemer  as  the  soft  wax  that  receives  and  retains  the  im- 
pression. Ransomed  one!  in  the  hour  of  thine  access  lift  not 
thy  head  from  that  bosom,  till  thou  hast  both  pleaded  and 
procured  the  engraving  of  thy  name  upon  that  heart.  Thy 
weak  arm  must  now  be  withdrawn  for  a  season  from  the  inter- 
twining arm  of  his  strength,  yet  loose  not  the  grasp  till  thou 
hast  entreated  and  obtained  that  thy  name  shall  encircle  his 
arm  like  an  engraving  on  a  bracelet;  that  he  may  bear  it  v/ritten 
there,  whence  no  man,  not  even  thyself,  can  pluck  it ;  and 
where  it  will  never  be  absent  from  his  sight,  but  borne  ever 
about  with  him,  and  beauteous  always  before  him.  The  fruit 
of  many  interviews  with  Jesus  is  partially  lost  for  want  of 
this  wisdom  and  zeal;  lost,  by  not  covenanting  with  him  be- 
fore the  meeting  is  dissolved,  that  there  shall  be  this  perpetual 
remembrance;  lost,  by  not  detaining  him  till  he  grant  this 
parting  blessing — till  he  consent  to  make  the  soul  as  the  signet- 
ring  of  his  arm,  the  signet-ring  of  his  heart. 

THE   DEATH-LIKE    STRENGTH    AND    GRAVE-LIKE    CRUELTY    OF    LOVE. 

For  love  is  strong  as  death,  jealousy  is  cruel  as  the  grave. — 
Death  in  its  own  sphere  is  strong,  and  seems  omnipotent,  but 
it  cannot  conquer  love.  Death,  with  all  its  terrors,  was  be- 
fore the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  the  price  of  his  love  to  lost 
men,  but  it  deterred  him  not — 'he  loved  us  and  gave  himself 
for  us,  enduring  the  cross  and  despising  the  shame.'  Death 
has  been  ten  thousand  times  before  the  Bride  of  the  slain  Lamb, 
and  she  'loved  not  her  life  unto  the  death';  for  'neither  death 
nor  life  is  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is 
in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.'  These  two  mightiest  combatants 
d4 


468  DIVINE   LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  6. 

in  the  universe  have  met  together  and  measured  their  strength, 
Death  and  Love;  and  love  has  prevailed  over  death  in  the 
conflict,  has  yielded  to  death  that  it  might  triumph  over  it, 
has  given  itself  into  the  power  of  death,  that  it  might  obtain 
the  keys  of  death  and  hell,  to  liberate  death's  captives.  This 
love  in  the  Beloved  has  awakened  a  returning  love  in  .his  Re- 
deemed, 'strong  also  as  death,'  and  seeking  to  be  ^set  as  a  seal 
on  his  heart  and  on  his  arm,'  to  be  borne  through  the  midst 
of  death.  And  Jesus  did  so  bear  his  Father's  elect;  death  did 
not  pluck  them  from  his  heart;  for  in  his  death-cry — Save  me 
from  the  lion's  mouth!  it  was  still  'and  my  darling  from  the 
power  of  the  dog ';  and  death  did  not  pluck  them  from  his 
arm,  for  he  bore  them  through  it,  promising — 'to-day  thou 
shalt  be  with  me  in  paradise.' 

Jealousy  is  a'uel  as  the  grave — the  all-devouring  grave,  that 
knows  not  pity.  Even  so  is  holy  jealousy  relentlessly  cruel 
to  every  creature  that  would  interfere  between  the  soul  and 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — to  the  thousand  idols  that  once  seemed 
fair,  casting  them  away  as  'dross,  to  win  Christ  and  in  him  be 
found,'  within  his  heart — to  father  and  mother  and  brother 
and  sister,  whom  it  forsaketh  and  even  hateth  for  his  sake,  if 
they  come  into  rivalry  with  him — and  cruel  as  the  grave  to 
the  Bride's  'own  life  also,'  which  she  hateth  and  layeth  down, 
that  she  may  follow  him,  closely  bound  as  a  signet  to  his  arm. 
Yea,  jealousy  is  cruel  as  tlie  grave,  not  only  against  all  that 
would  interfere  between  it  and  the  Lord  whom  it  loves,  but 
against  all  that  would  do  despite  or  dishonour  to  that  glorious 
Lord.  It  was  jealousy  cruel  as  the  grave  that,  in  the  midst 
of  Israel's  dance  around  the  golden  calf,  gathered  the  sons  of 
Levi  to  Moses;  that  armed  every  one  with  his  sword  to  'slay 
every  man  his  brother,  and  every  man  his  companion,  and 
every  man  his  neighbour,'  and  obtain  for  them  the  covenant 
of  peace  and  truth  from  the  Lord.  It  was  jealousy  cruel  as 
the  grave,  tliat  in  the  day  of  Balaam's  wiles  filled  the  hand  of 
the  noble  Phinehas  with  the  javelin  that  slew  the  prince  of 
the  liouse  of  Simeon  ;  and  '  it  was  counted  to  him  for  righteous- 
ness unto  all  generations,  because  he  was  zealous  for  his  God.' 


CHAP.  VIII.  6.  ITS   GRAVE-LIKE    CRUELTY.  469 

It  was  jealousy  cruel  as  the  grave  that  moved  Elijah,  who  was 
'very  jealous  for  the  Lord  God  of  hosts/  to  slay  the  prophets 
of  Baal  at  the  brook  Kishon  and  let  not  one  escape;  and,  with 
a  chariot  of  fire  and  horses  of  fire,  the  Lord  took  him  up  by  a 
whirlwind  into  heaven.  It  was  jealousy  cruel  as  the  grave 
that  moved  Peter  to  address  the  covetous  wife  of  a  covetous 
husband,  who  had  both  of  them  lied  not  unto  men  but  unto 
God — 'behold  the  feet  of  them  which  have  buried  thy  hus- 
band are  at  the  door  and  shall  carry  thee  out;'  that  kindled 
Stephen,  in  the  face  of  death,  to  charge  his  judges — 'ye  stiff- 
necked  and  uncircumcised  in  heart  and  ears,  ye  do  always  resist 
the  Holy  Ghost';  and  that  stirred  Paul  to  utter  the  righteous 
and  holy,  yet  tremendous  curse — 'if  any  man  love  not  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema  Maran-atha.'  This 
jealousy,  with  its  grave-like  cruelty,  our  protesting  and  suffer- 
ing forefathers  knew  better  than  we;  and  it  produced  a  re- 
markable but  noble  mingling  of  ardent  love  to  Jesus  with 
tenderness  of  conscience  and  manly  boldness,  which  made  little 
account  either  of  their  own  lives  or  those  of  others,  when 
placed  in  competition  with  the  honour  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  The  taunt  of  their  foes  was,  that  'the  only  library  of 
a  Presbyterian  divine  consisted  of  an  explanation  of  the  Apo- 
calypse, and  a  Commentary  on  the  Song  of  Songs'  (Macaulay); 
and  the  allegation  strikingly  illustrates  these  verses.  'Set  me 
as  a  seal  upon  thy  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm '  is  a  brief 
summation  of  the  substance  of  this  bridal  Song;  and  in  the  Song 
the  ardent  and  tender  affection  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which 
formed  half  the  character  of  those  stalwart  men,  would  find 
fit  outlet  and  expression.  'Love  strong  as  death,  with  jealousy 
cruel  as  the  grave'  formed  the  other  half  of  that  character;  and 
it  sought  and  found  its  free  and  holy  exercise  in  the  opened 
seals,  the  sounding  trumpets,  and  outpoured  vials  of  the  'true 
and  righteous  judgments  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty.'  Reader! 
if  thy  name  is  set  as  a  seal  on  the  heart  and  on  the  arm  of 
Jesus  Christ,  then  thou  art  not  quite  a  stranger  to  'the  love 
that  is  strong  as  death,  and  the  jealousy  that  is  cruel  as  the 
grave.' 


470  DIVINE    LOVE.  CHAP.   VIII.  6. 


THE   VEHEMENT   FLAME  AND  QUENCHLESS   MEE   OF   DIVINE   LOVE. 

The  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire,  tvhich  hath  a  most  vehement 
flame — or  '  the  fire-flame  of  God '  as  an  old  translator  renders 
it.  It  is  the  love  that  burned  and  flamed  within  the  heart  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  when  lie  said,  'the  zeal  of  thine  house 
hath  eaten  me  up';  for  in  him,  more  than  all  his  servants,  was 
it  true  that  '  zeal  consumed  him/  and  that  the  'word  of  the 
Lord  was  in  his  heart  as  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in  his  bones.' 
His  herald  was  'a  burning  as  well  as  a  shining  light/  but  Je- 
sus came  to  'baptize  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire/  and 
the  baptism  by  measure  on  others  was  poured  immeasurably 
on  Him.  'I  am  come/  said  he,  'to  send  fire  on  earth,  and 
what  will  I  if  it  be  already  kindled' — a  fire  indeed  that  would 
create  heart-burnings  throughout  the  world  ;  yet  not  the  fire 
of  vengeance  which  his  disciples  would  have  called  down  from 
heaven,  but  the  fire  of  holy  love.  How  vehemently  it  burned 
within  him  when  he  exclaimed,  '  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  bap- 
tized with,  and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it  be  accomplished — 
with  desire  have  I  desired  to  eat  this  passover  with  you!' 

Ascending  to  the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  he  kindled  with- 
in the  hearts  of  his  disciples  the  same  divine  fire  that  burned 
within  himself;  sending  down  the  Holy  Ghost  to  rest  upon 
them  as  flames  or  tongues  of  fire:  and  the  fire  of  love  burned 
more  mightily  within  them,  than  the  visible  flames  that  en- 
circled their  heads.  He  made  'his  ministers  in  that  hour  a 
flame  of  fire,'  and  all  his  disciples  in  their  measure;  and  most 
vehement  the  flame  was,  of  love  to  the 'Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
of  love  to  men  for  his  sake.  '  We  love  him,'  they  could  affirm, 
'because  he  first  loved  us';  with  a  love  infinitely  weaker  than 
his,  yet  kindled  l)y  its  fire.  To  men  they  could  declare,  'I  will 
very  gladly  spend  and  be  spent  for  you,  though  the  more 
abundantly  I  love  the  less  I  be  loved;  yea  if  I  be  offered  (as 
if  consumed  on  the  altar-fire  of  love)  upon  the  sacrifice  and 
service  of  your  faith,  I  joy  and  rejoice  with  you  all.'  AVith 
this  enkindled  flame  of  love,  the  Lord  made  'the  governors 


CHAP.  VIII.  6.  ITS    VEHEMENT    FLAME.  47 L 

of  Judah  as  an  hearth  of  lire  among  wood,  and  as  a  torch  of 
lire  in  a  sheaf — set  the  whole  world  on  iire  with  the  vehe- 
mence of  the  flame — and  the  lighted  sheaf  has  never  been 
quenched,  and  the  enkindled  wood  is  burning  still. 

This  divine  fire  of  love  hath  'a  most  vehement  flame.'  The 
men  of  earth  soon  resolved  to  try  its  strength  with  other  flames, 
and,  tying  the  martyrs  to  the  stake,  they  measured  its  power 
with  the  fiery  fagots  heaped  around  them.  But  the  fire  of  love 
prevailed,  and  burned  bright  amongst  and  above  the  outward 
flames.  '  Father !  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do! — Lord!  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge!' — was  still  the  breath- 
ing and  the  flame  of  love,  more  vehement  than  all  the  coals  of 
juniper  that  burned  their  bodies  to  ashes.  How  little  now  of 
this  vehemence  of  love,  how  little  kindling  of  heart  to  Jesus, 
how  few  flames  of  fire  in  his  service!  Yet  one  torch  of  fire 
kindled  from  heaven,  with  the  '  love  that  beareth  all  things,' 
eifectsmore  for  the  honour  of  Christ  and  the  salvation  of  souls, 
than  a  thousand  half-extinguished  sparks.  These  sparks  light 
no  flames  around  them,  but  themselves  require  continual 
watching,  else  they  will  expire  altogether;  but  this  one  vehe- 
ment flame  kindles  a  sheaf,  and  sets  a  whole  city  on  fire;  this 
one  hearth  of  fire  in  the  forest  spreads  the  flaming  light  and 
heat  through  the  whole.  A  burning  forest  how  glorious,  how 
terrible  it  is — how  branch  kindles  branch,  and  tree  kindles 
tree — how  it  flames,  how  it  crackles,  how  it  roars  like  the  waves 
of  the  sea,  or  the  thunder  of  the  heavens — awful  in  its  con- 
suming might,  irresistible  in  its  onward  march,  blazing  through 
the  midnight  gloom  with  more  than  the  light  of  a  thousand 
torches!  Even  such  is  the  flame  of  Jehovah  which  love  en- 
kindles; so  great,  so  majestic,  so  irrepressible,  so  luminous,  is 
the  fire  which  one  man  may  serve  to  light  if  cast  like  a  blaz- 
ing torch  among  the  forest  of  human  souls,  till  soul  enkindles 
soul,  mind  enlightens  mind,  and  tongue  sets  fire  to  tongue,  in 
the  vast  multitude  both  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead. 

Many  loaters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods  drown 
it. — If  waters  could  have  quenched  the  love  of  Jesus,  or  floods 
have  drowned  it,  his  love  had  perished  in  the  'many  billows 


472  DIVINE   LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  7. 

that  passed  over  him.'  Through  waters  of  cold  indifference 
and  hatred  on  the  part  of  those  he  came  to  save ;  through  '  floods 
of  ungodly  men  compassing  him  about';  through  ^floods  cast 
forth  from  the  mouth  of  the  great  serpent  seeking  to  destroy 
the  man-child  when  born/  and  '  swelling  to  the  brim  in  the 
hour  and  power  of  darkness ';  through  the  dark  flood  of  his 
Father's  wrath  when  he  cried  Met  not  the  water-flood  over- 
flow me,  the  pit  shut  her  mouth  upon  me  !' — through  all  these 
waters  the  great  Redeemer  passed.  The  loving  One  for  a  sea- 
son seemed  drowned  beneath  the  floods,  but  never  the  love. 
When  'all  God's  waves  and  billows  were  passing  over  him,' 
his  love  to  the  Father  was  unquenche(J,  and  he  cried  '  My  God, 
my  God!'  as  he  sank  beneath  the  waters.  In  all  these  waves, 
his  love  to  his  Bride  was  equally  unquenched.  'Deliver  my 
Only  One!'  he  cried,  while  he  bore  her  in  his  arms  through 
the  deadly  billows  (Ps.  xxii.);  and  he  fainted  not,  nor  failed 
till  he  had  placed  her  securely  on  the  rock  of  ages,  and  had 
shouted  with  a  loud  voice  to  heaven,  earth,  and  hell, — 'It  is 
finished !'  and  then  beneath  the  dark  waters  the  strong  One 
bowed  his  head  and  sunk  in  death.  But  the  'many  waters 
had  not  quenched  the  love,  nor  had  the  floods  drowned  it.' 
Jesus  is  '  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever ';  our  many 
provocations  have  not  quenched  his  love,  nor  has  it  been 
drowned  by  the  floods  of  our  iniquities ;  but  all  the  love  that 
burned  on  earth  in  the  heart  of  Jesus  is  burning  for  ever  in 
its  strength. 

So  is  it  with  the  love  that  the  same  spirit  enkindles  in  the 
redeemed  soul;  the  waters  quench  it  not,  the  floods  drown  it 
not.  The  floods  poured  upon  divine  love  within  the  heart  of 
man  are  like  waters  on  quick-lime,  serving  only  to  bring  out 
the  heat  that  was  latent  before,  and  making  it  burst  forth  and 
boil  till  it  break  and  melt  all  the  mass. 

Lime  begged  of  old,  they  say, 
A  neighbour  spring  to  cool  his  inward  heat, 
Which  by  the  spring's  access  grew  much  more  great. 

Herbert. 


CHAP.  VIII.  7.  ITS    QUENCHLESS    FIRE.  473 

It  is  a  glorious  conflict  between  fire  and  water.  God  has 
kindled  on  earth  the  fire  of  heaven  in  the  heart,  but  the  ene- 
my comes  up  like  a  flood  to  quench  it — sins,  temptations,  per- 
secutions, the  world,  men  and  devils,  flesh  and  blood,  and  powers 
not  of  flesh  and  blood.  It  is  the  fire  of  heaven,  it  is  the  flood 
of  hell — which  shall  prevail  in  the  awful  meeting?  shall  the 
black  flood  quench  the  bright  fire,  the  light  of  a  dark  earth, 
and  the  warmth  of  a  wintry  world?  'The  sea  roars  and  the 
waves  thereof — the  fire  must  perish  like  a  spark  in  the  ocean! 
But  deep  and  quenchless  is  that  holy  fire — onward  the  billows 
rush,  right  over  the  bright  flames  the  deep  waters  have  rolled, 
and  the  noisy  waves  toss  themselves  and  roar  in  the  madness 
of  triumph.  One  moment  more,  and  there  bursts  a  burning 
mountain  from  the  ocean's  depths,  the  waters  have  destroyed 
themselves,  they  have  touched  an  unsuspected  fire  that  was 
latent  in  its  mighty  elements,  and  have  kindled  those  elements 
into  flame.  From  the  ocean's  bed  the  volcano  rises  burning 
brightly,  dries  uj)  the  bitter  flood,  and  sheds  light  through  the 
gloom,  and  warmth  through  the  snowy  cold  around.  So  ten 
hundred  times  has  the  world  risen  to  quench  the  light  of  the 
Church  of  the  living  God,  and  so  has  the  enemy  'coming  in 
like  a  flood'  ever  been  foiled.  Around  the  burning  altar  of 
love,  God's  children  have  gathered  again  with  a  hymn  of  tri- 
umph, and  their  song  has  ever  been,  and  to  the  end  when 
greater  floods  shall  lift  their  waves  their  song  will  ever  be, 
'Many  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods 
drown  it!' 

Whole  seas  of  trouble  cannot  quench 

Love's  everlasting  fire ; 
Though  hell  oppose  whom  I  have  chose, 

I  cannot  but  admire. 

Mason. 

But  drown  not  thou  the  love,  'quench  not  thou  the  Spirit, 
grieve  not  thou  the  Holy  Ghost,'  but  'stir  up  the  gift  that  is 
in  thee.'  How  often  when  the  waves  of  adversity  have  only 
kindled  the  fire  of  heavenly  love,  has  the  tide  of  prosperity 


474  DIVINE    LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  7. 

and  peace,  stealthily  approaching,  drop  by  drop  cooling  the 
live  embers,  welcomed  as  a  friend  and  not  feared  as  a  foe, 
gradually  weakened  the  fire  of  love  till  it  has  quite  flowed  over 
it  and  seemed  to  leave  it  extinct  beneath  the  placid  flood !  Be- 
liever! tremble,  yet  despair  not,  distrust  not,  for  the  many 
waters  cannot  quench  the  fire  of  divine  love  within  thee.  '  I 
know  how  to  abound  and  how  to  suffer  want,'  said  one  in 
whom  that  fire  was  burning;  and  where  true  grace  exists, 
neitlier  the  dark  and  bitter  waves  of  adversity,  nor  the  sweet 
and  smooth  waters  of  earth's  flowing  tide,  will  quench  the  love 
that  God  has  enkindled.  'Neither  things  present,  nor  the 
world,  nor  life,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separ- 
ate us  from  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.* 

love's  priceless  worth. 

If  a  man  would  give  all  the  substance  of  his  house  for  love,  it 
would  utterly  be  contemned. — This  is  a  truth,  like  the  preceding, 
applicable  to  the  Bridegroom  and  the  Bride;  true  of  divine  love 
toward  us,  true  of  divine  love  in  us ;  for  love  in  these  verses  is 
employed  exactly  as  it  is  by  the  Apostle  Paul  in  the  end  of  the 
eighth  of  Romans,  where  'the  love  of  Christ '  means,  both  his 
love  to  us  and  our  love  to  him.  As  the  words  are  uttered  by  the 
Bride,  let  us  take  it,  first,  of  the  substance  offered  to  her,  and  by 
her  refused  for  love;  if  Christ  would  give  all  the  substance  of 
his  house  instead  of  his  love,  it  would  be  utterly  contemned  by 
the  believing  and  loving  soul.  So  Paul  asserted,  that  'to  win 
Christ  he  reckoned  all  things  loss  and  counted  them  but  dung' 
— that  is,  almost  in  Solomon's  very  words,  he  held  them  in 
utter  contempt.  Those  all  things  were  the  outward  substance 
of  the  Bridegroom's  house,  the  treasures  of  riches,  or  knowl- 
edge, or  honour,  or  pleasure  with  which  the  world  is  stored ; 
for  'the  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fullness  thereof,'  the  solid 
earth  itself  and  all  its  furnishino^s.  AH  these  thin2;s  are  given 
into  the  hands  of  Christ,  and  are  his  to  bestow  or  to  withhold; 
and  the  Bride,  through  the  mouth  of  Paul,  declares  that  she 
holds  them  in  utter  contempt,  casts  them  away,  vilifies  them, 


CHAP.  VIII.  7.  ITS  PRICELESS   WORTH.  475 

when  advanced  against  the  excellency  of  Christ.  Or  again, 
these  things  are  represented  as  in  some  respects  pertaining  to 
the  Prince  of  this  world,  and  Avith  them  he  essays  to  buy  this 
love  of  the  heart  which  pertains  to  God  alone.  He  succeeds 
with  those  who  serve  him  and  bear  his  image,  because  they 
love  his  ways  as  well  as  his  substance;  but  he  utterly  fails 
with  the  heart  in  which  the  love  of  God  dwells.  He  made 
the  attempt  with  Jesus  himself,  offering  'all  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world  and  their  glory'  for  his  heart,  his  love  and  homage; 
but  the  proffered  gift  of  all  the  substance  of  his  house  for  love 
was  utterly  contemned — 'Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  !'  With 
the  chaste  virgin  espoused  to  Christ  he  is  ever  attempting  it 
again ;  the  Prince  of  the  world  offers  sometimes  less,  some- 
times more,  sometimes  all  his  substance  and  kingdom,  that  he 
may  win  her  heart  for  the  world  ;  but,  through  grace,  she 
answers  him — '  Get  thee  behind  me,  for  the  friend  of  the  world 
is  the  enemy  of  God !' 

The  Bridegroom  of  the  Church,  again,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself  for  it,  asketh  love  and 
nothing  less  in  return ;  asketh  love  and  will  accept  of  nothing 
else.  'Give  me  thine  heart!'  is  his  demand,  and  the  heart  he 
will  possess.  He  has  purchased  the  soul,  and  with  it  has  pur- 
chased the  soul's  love ;  he  has  redeemed  the  whole  person  of 
the  Bride,  and  has  purchased  her  whole  heart.  But  not  with 
the  substance  of  his  house  did  he  buy  her  love,  or  once  offer 
for  it  such  a  price,  for  it  would  have  been  utterly  contemned; 
'not  with  silver  and  gold,  but  with  his  own  precious  blood' 
the  Lamb  redeemed  his  Bride.  This  is  a  price  for  love  which 
can  never  be  despised,  because  it  is  not  the  bounty  of  the  hand 
but  the  blood  of  the  heart;  all  the  man  and  all  his  love  are 
in  it,  for  'greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this  that  a  man  lay 
down  his  life  for  his  friends.'  But  having  thus  proved  his 
own  love,  and  having  at  so  great  a  price  purchased  ours,  he 
'utterly  contemns'  everything  else  but  love  in  return.  Some 
are  giving  him  the  labour  of  their  hands  instead  of  love,  little. 
reflecting  how  thoroughly  it  is  despised ;  for  if  by  faith,  and 
equally  if  by  labour,  'I  can  remove  mountains  and  have  not 


476  DIVINE   LOVE.  CHAP.  VIII.  7. 

love,  I  am  nothing.'  Others  give  their  gold  and  silver  to  the 
cause  of  Christ  and  to  the  poor,  but  these  being  given  instead 
of  love  are  utterly  contemned  ;  for  'if  I  give  all  my  substance 
to  feed  the  poor  and  have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.' 
Nay  if,  not  in  token  and  gift  of  love  but  in  its  absence  and  in 
its  stead,  we  should  give  our  body  to  the  flames,  it  would  be 
mere  outward  substance  wanting  the  heart,  and  would  meet 
with  utter  contempt;  for  'if  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned  and 
have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.'  How  sad  it  will  be 
to  lose  our  knowledge,  our  labour,  our  gold  and  silver,  our 
very  life  ;  giving  all  these  to  Jesus,  and  refusing  him  our  heart 
and  our  love;  sacrificing  much  for  him,  yet  finding  him  not! 
'Search  me,  O  God,  and  try  me,  and  see  if  there  be  any  wicked 
way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting' — reveal  to 
me  thy  love  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  take  to  thee  my  heart  and 
my  love,  in  Jesus,  and  for  his  name's  sake! 


CHAP.  VIII.  8-14.        THE   CLOSING   SONG.  477 


XXIV. 

THE  CLOSING  SONG. 

THE   LITTLE  SISTEB — THE   VINEYARD   TRANSFEEBED — THE   LAST 
OF   THE  FOUR   MOUNTAINS. 

We  have  a  little  sister,  and  she  hatli  no  breasts:  what  shall  we  do  for 
our  sister  in  the  day  when  she  shall  be  spoken  for?  If  she  be  a  wall,  we 
will  build  upon  her  a  palace  of  silver ;  and  if  she  be  a  door,  we  will  enclose 
her  with  boards  of  cedar.  I  am  a  wall,  and  my  breasts  like  towers:  then 
was  I  in  his  eyes  as  one  that  found  favour.  Solomon  had  a  vineyard  at 
Baal-hamon;  he  let  .out  the  vineyard  unto  keejiers;  every  one  for  the 
fruit  thereof  was  to  bring  a  thousand  j)icces  of  silver.  My  vineyard,  which 
is  mine,  ^s  before  rae:  thou,  O  Solomon,  viiist  haves,  thousand,  and  those 
that  keep  the  fruit  thereof  two  hundred.  Thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gar- 
dens, the  companions  hearken  to  thy  voice ;  cause  me  to  hear  it.  Make 
haste,  my  beloved !  and  be  thou  like  to  a  roe  or  to  a  young  hart  upon  the 
mountains  of  spices. — Chap.  viii.  8-14. 

THE  LITTLE   SISTER, 

We  have  a  little  sister,  and  she  hath  no  breasts:  what  shall  we 
do  for  our  sister  in  the  day  when  she  shall  be  spoken  forf — The 
Little  Sister,  is  by  general  consent,  understood  of  the  Church 
of  the  Gentiles.  Ezekiel,  with  probable  allusion  to  this  very 
passage,  says  to  the  Hebrew  Church — 'Thy  younger  sister  is 
Sodom,' — is  a  gentile  and  the  worst  of  the  Gentiles;  and  of 
this  younger  sister  he  further  declares,  that  'she  was  not  men- 
tioned by  her  mouth  in  the  day  of  her  pride';  the  heathen  being 
despised  as  dogs  by  the  Jews.  But  this  untoward  sister  begins 
now  to  be  owned  by  the  King,  and  therefore  by  the  Bride. 
The  persons  consulting  together  are,  no  doubt,  the  same  who 
said  at  the  commencement  of  the  Song  '  we  will  run  after  thee,' 
or  members  of  the  Hebrew  Church.  These  alone  hitherto 
constituted  the  recognised  Bride  of  Christ;  for,  although  the 


478  THE    CLOSING   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  8. 9. 

Geutiies  were  not  shut  out  from  salvation,  the  door  of  com- 
munion with  the  Church,  and  of  acknowledged  communion 
with  its  Head,  was  open  to  them  only  by  becoming  proselytes. 
The  Hebrew  Church  now  tardily  begins  to  acknowledge  sister- 
hood in  the  converted  Gentiles,  irrespectively  of  their  subjec- 
tion to  the  ceremonial  law;  or  rather,  in  the  first  instance, 
previously  to  such  subjection.  'God  hath  granted  to  them,' 
said  Peter,  'the  like  gift  as  he  did  to  us';  and  asked  'Can  any 
man  forbid  water  that  these  should  be  baptized?'  It  was  not 
only  in  oneness  of  blood  that  the  sisterhood  consisted,  but  in 
oneness  of  spiritual  gift  from  lieaven. 

'What  was  to  be  done  for  this  little  sister?'  was  among  the 
chief  of  all  the  questions  that  agitated  the  early  Church,  and 
'the  apostles  and  elders  came  together  for  to  consider  of  this 
matter.'  The  day  had  now  come  when  this  sister  was  'spoken 
for;'  the  great  Bridegroom  of  the  Church  was  calling  her  into 
covenant  union  with  himself  in  the  time  of  her  espousals. 
Hitherto  she  had  no  breasts,  either  as  the  recognised  Bride  of 
the  Lamb,  or  as  the  glad  mother  of  a  spiritual  offspring.  She 
had  been  without  any  form  or  comeliness;  and  the  twin  roes 
were  not  hers  either  in  faith  or  in  love.  'Faith  cometh  by 
hearing,'  and  being  'without  a  preacher'  she  had  not  heard; 
love  returns  to  him  who  first  loved  us,  and  the  riches  of  his 
grace  she  had  not  yet  known.  But  now,  the  Lord  sends  his 
word  to  her,  and  she  hears  and  believes;  the  Lord  looks  down 
on  her  with  the  eye  of  love,  and  she  '  turns  from  the  love  of 
idols  to  love  the  living  and  true  God.'  God  had  now  'granted 
to  the  Gentiles  repentance  unto  life.' 

The  question  in  the  Church  does  not  properly  regard  the 
calling  of  the  Gentiles  into  the  relation  of  Sister,  for  that 
belonged  to  God  alone ;  but  it  regards  the  reception  which 
this  younger  sister,  when  accepted  by  Christ,  is  to  receive  from 
the  elder.  It  is  the  younger  son  in  the  parable,  whom  the 
Father  has  already  received ;  it  is  the  sun-smitten  dresser  of 
the  vineyard  whom  the  Bridegroom  has  espoused;  what  shall 
be  the  acknowledgement  by  the  first-born  brother?  what  the 
welcome  by  the  elder  sister?  * 

If  she  be  a  wall,  we  will  build  upon  her  a  palace  of  silver. — 


CHAP.  yiii.  9.         THE  little  sisteu.  479 

If  God  has  founded  her  on  the  rock  Christ,  if  God  has  built 
her  like  a  wall  in  Zion,  Avhat  shall  we  do  now?  Shall  we  cast 
the  wall  down? — No,  for  we  cannot  and  will  not  fiffht  asfainst 
God,  'Forasmuch  then/  said  the  first  of  the  builders,  'as  God 
gave  them  the  like  gift  as  he  did  unto  us,  what  was  I  that  I 
could  withstand  God?'  But  if  slie  be  a  wall  built  by  God, 
and  not  to  be  thrown  down  by  man,  what  shall  we  build  there- 
on? 'Wood,  hay,  stubble,'  many  desired  and  purposed  to 
build;  circumcision,  ceremonies,  divers  rites  and  ordinances, 
'yokes  which  neither  Hebrew  fathers  nor  children  had  been 
able  to  bear.'  They  could  not  allow  the  Gentile  converts  to 
be  a  wall  of  God,  now  to  be  only  adorned  and  beautified;  but 
looked  on  them  as  shut  out,  even  from  salvation,  without  their 
alterations  and  emendations.  But,  said  one  of  the  Iriends  of 
the  Bridegroom,  'It  is  written,  I  will  return  and  will  build 
again  the  tabernacle  of  David,  and  will  build  again  the  ruins 
thereof,  that  the  residue  of  men  might  seek  after  the  Lord, 
and  all  the  Gentiles  on  whom  my  name  is  called;  known  unto 
God  are  all  his  works  from  the  beginning  of  the  world:  where- 
fore my  sentence  is,  that  we  trouble  not  them  which  from  among 
the  Gentiles  are  turned  to  God'  (Acts  xv).  'Known  unto 
God  are  all  his  works  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,'  and 
known  likewise  all  his  words;  and  the  xipostle  of  the  Gentiles, 
as  if  referring  to  this  silver  palace  or  turret  to  be  built  upon 
the  wall,  said — 'I  have  laid  the  foundation — other  foundation 
can  no  man  lay  than  that  which  is  laid,  Jesus  Christ — if  any 
man  build  on  this  foundation  gold,  silver,  precious  stones.' 
While  some  desired  to  build  only  '  v/ood,  hay,  and  stubble,' 
the  true  Church  resolved  to  add  nothing  but  gems  and  gold, 
or  to  erect  upon  the  wall  'a  palace  of  silver;'  they  agreed  to 
own  the  wall  to  be  of  God,  to  add  every  privilege  which  the 
Church  could  bestow,  and  to  afford  every  aid  for  the  growth 
of  the  Gentiles  in  faith  and  love. 

If  she  be  a  door,  toe  icill  enclose  her  ivith  boards  of  cedar. — 
They  liken  the  little  sister  to  two  of  the  principal  parts  of  a 
building  or  temple — first,  the  wall,  without  which  there  is  no 
stability,  no  house ;  and  second,  the  door,  without  which  there 


480  THE   CLOSING   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  10. 

is  no  entrance  to  the  house,  and  no  use  of  it.  Paul,  and  Bar- 
nabas rehearsed  to  the  churches  'how  God  had  opened  the  door 
of  faith  unto  the  Gentiles — and  they  caused  great  joy  uutoaii 
the  brethren.'  Christ  is  'the  door'  of  the  Father,  'the  door 
for  the  sheep';  faith  is  the  door  of  the  heart  which  God  opens; 
and  Jesus  given,  is  the  door  of  God  opened  to  faith.  The  wall 
is  the  image  of  stability,  on  which,  with  its  solid  strength,  is 
to  be  built  a  silver  palace  for  habitation  and  for  beauty.  The 
door  is  the  image  of  accessibleness ;  but  a  doorway  without 
the  wooden  framework  requires  cedar  boards  to  distinguish  it 
from  a  mere  open  thoroughfare.  The  foundation  wall  is  stable 
and  may  be  depended  on,  but  it  remains  comparatively  without 
use,  and  without  beauty,  till  the  palace  is  reared  on  it.  The 
doorway  in  the  wall  gives  ample  access;  but  it  must  have 
other  elements  besides,  it  must  be  rendered  capable  of  enclosing 
as  well  as  admitting,  must  be  provided  with  a  framework  of 
wood,  and  for  ornament  as  well  as  use  that  wood  is  to  be  carved 
'cedar' — fragrant,  beautiful,  enduring.  In  a  word,  this  Gen- 
tile Church  is  to  he  owned,  beautified,  and  ordered,  in  all  re- 
spects, for  a  glorious  'habitation  of  God  through  the  Spirit.' 

I  am  a  10 all,  and  my  hi^easts  like  towers. — The  little  sister, 
the  Gentile  Church,  thus  expresses  her  joy  both  in  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  and  in  her  privileges  as  a  Gospel  Church.  When 
Paul  and  Barnabas,  along  with  Judas  and  Silas,  returned  from 
Jerusalem  to  Antioch  with  the  letter  of  '  the  apostles  and  el- 
ders and  brethren,  they  gathered  the  multitude  together  and  de- 
livered the  epistle,  which  when  they  had  read  they  rejoiced  for 
the  consolation'  (Acts  xv).  The  Gentile  Church  was  now 
recognised  as  a  wall  in  God's  temple,  and  greatly  rejoiced  in 
the  privilege.  Paul  addressing  these  Gentiles  writes, '  Ye  are 
no  more  strangers,  but  of  the  household  of  God,  and  are  built 
upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ 
himself  being  the  chief  corner-stone ;  in  whom  all  the  building, 
fitly  framed  together,  groweth  unto  an  holy  temple  in  the 
Lord;  in  whom  ye  also  are  builded  together  for  an  habitation 
of  God  through  the  Spirit.'  The  Hebrew  Church  appears  to 
be  represented  as  one  wall,  the  Gentile  Church  as  another,  and 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  corner-stone  uniting  the  two,  as  well  as  the 


CHAP.  Vlir.  10.  THE    LITTLE    SISTER.  481 

foundation  of  both.  Received  thus  as  one  of  the  maiu  walls 
of  the  Lord's  temple,  and  equally  important  to  the  buildino- 
as  her  Hebrew  Sistex',  she  might  well  rejoice,  and  gratefully 
exclaim,  to  the  praise  of  grace, '  I  am  a  wall !'  Nor  was  it  the 
mere  roofless  wall  of  an  unfinished  house;  but  'the  silver  pal- 
ace' had  been  built  upon  the  wall,  and  had  been  entered  and 
occupied  by  the  Lord  himself,  for  she  is  '^an  habitation  of  God 
through  the  Spirit.' 

And  my  breasts  like  towers. — In  allusion  to  the  silver  turrets 
which  the  bridal  virgins  proposed  to  build  upon  the  wall,  the 
little  sister  now  compares  her  breasts  to  towers.  'The  twin 
roes  that  feed  among  the  lilies' were  hers  now;  'the  breast- 
plate of  faith  and  love'  was  her  armour  and  her  ornament; 
'her  faith  grew  exceedingly  and  her  charity  abounded.'  Not 
merely,  however,  in  personal  beauty  did  she  now  appear  before 
the  Lord,  like  the  Spotless  Bride;  but  like  that  Bride  also 
when,  afterwards,  'her  stature  was  like  the  palm-tree  and  her 
breasts  like  its  clusters;'  so  does  she  now  nourish  many  sons 
and  daughters  with  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word.  To  the 
children  of  Jerusalem  it  had  been  promisexl — 'thou  shalt  suck 
the  milk  of  the  Gentiles,  and  suck  the  breasts  of  kings ;'  and 
the  Gentile  Church  has  now  breasts  of  consolation  and  life, 
both  for  the  perishing  heathen  and  for  the  children  of  Israel. 
That  Church  grew  with  amazing  rapidity,  so  that  the  'little 
sister'  now  became  both  more  beautiful  and  more  honoured 
than  the  elder.  Already  Israel's  'elder  sister  Samaria'  had 
been  received,  but  not  by  her  covenant  of  the  law,  but  by  the 
new  covenant  of  grace;  and  now  her 'younger  sister  Sodom 
which  was  not  mentioned  by  her  mouth  in  the  day  of  her 
pride,'  has  her  captivity  restored,  and  is  given  to  Jerusalem  at 
once  for  a  daughter  and  a  sister — an  offspring  in  the  faith,  yet 
now  an  equal  in  divine  favour.  Samaria  being  converted  and 
Sodom  being  called,  the  whole  promise  is  fulfilled,  'Thou  shalt 
receive  thy  sisters,  thine  elder  and  thy  younger,  and  I  will 
give  them  unto  thee  for  daughters.' 

Then  was  I  in  kis  eyes  as  one  that  found  favour — or  peace 
(marg.);  for  it  was  Jesus  preaching  peace,  first  to  them  that 
were  near,  and  now  also  to  them  that  were  afar  oif.     Favour 


482  THE    CI-OSIXG   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  10. 

and  acceptancG  are  found  with  God,  for  he  'grants  to  the  Gen- 
tiles repentance  unto  life  in  an  acceptable  time  and  in  a  day 
of  salvation.'  The  Church  of  elect  Gentiles  is  first '  reconciled 
by  Christ's  death,  and  now  much  more  saved  by  his  life';  when 
yet  an  enemy,  reconciled  and  obtaining  peace ;  reconciled  now, 
and  finding  favour  in  his  eyes — favour,  because  faith  and  love 
w^ere  growing — favour,  because  she  was  'the  joyful  mother'  of 
souls  born  in  Zion,  whom  her  breasts  were  nourishing.  But 
further,  in  finding  peace,  in  finding  Salem,  she  has  found  also 
the  Prince  of  Peace.  The  peace-proclaiming  Pentecostal  He- 
brew Church  had  become  the  Shulamite,  the  Solomonite,  the 
Bride  and  Spouse  of  the  true  Solomon.  But  now  likewise, 
the  Church  of  the  Gentiles,  (obtaining  peace,  is  united  in  bridal 
covenant  to  Solomon,  and  becomes  the  Shulamite  (Sanctius) ; 
not  separately  nor  exclusively,  but  equally  with  the  Hebrew 
Church,  as  partaker  of  all  her  privileges,  a  'fellow-citizen  with 
the  saints';  not  another  bride  to  the  Lamb,  but  belonging  to 
the  one  bride,  one  with  Christ,  and  one  with  the  Church  of 
Christ.  It  is  peace  to  the  near,  and  peace  to  the  far  oif,  the 
far  off  and  the  near  being  now  both  one  in  Christ,  both  made 
nigh  to  God  in  the  blood  of  his  cross.  The  parting  middle 
wall  between  God  and  man  is  broken  down  in  Christ  our 
peace — the  parting  middle  wall  between  man  and  man,  Jew 
and  Gentile,  is  broken  down  in  Christ;  God  'the  very  God  of 
peace — Christ  our  peace' — the  Hebrew  Church  finding  peace 
through  Jesus — the  Gentile  Church  finding  peace  through 
Jesus — Jew  and  Gentile  finding  peace  with  each  other  in  him; 
the  Father  the  God  of  peace,  the  Son  the  Prince  of  peace,  the 
Church  the  Daughter  of  peace,  the  Lamb's  wife. 

From  the  parable  of  this  Little  Sister  let  us  learn  these 
things:  1.  To  cherish  compassionating  love  for  the  lost.  The 
lost  heathen  are  flesh  of  our  flesh  and  bone  of  our  bone ;  they 
are  not  men  simply,  as  we  also  are  men;  but  they  are  members  of 
the  same  human  fiimily,  children  of  the  same  Father,  and  toward 
them  as  to  younger  children  of  one  household  we  are  by  divine 
appointment  our  'brother's  keeper.'  Let  us  think  on  a  single 
family  ;  husband,  wife,  father,  mother,  son,  daughter,  old  men 
and  little  children,  living  beneath  one  roof;  all  dead  in  sin, 


CHAP.  VIII.  10.  THE   LITTLE   SISTER.  483 

all  without  Christ,  without  God,  without  hope  iu  the  world. 
Let  us  fix  the  miud  upon  this  household  till  we  feel  toward 
them  as  brethren,  and  till  our  compassions  are  moved  for  them. 
Let  us  place  ourselves  in  their  dark  and  hopeless  condition, 
and  them  in  our  light  and  liberty  ;  and  striving  to  love  our 
neighbour  as  we  love  ourselves,  let  us  ask  how  we  would  have 
them  to  think,  to  pray,  to  give,  to  labour  for  us;  and  so  let 
us  give  our  thoughts,  our  prayers,  our  offerings,  our  efforts 
for  them.  Not  that  any  one  perishing  family  can  claim  all 
our  regards,  but  that  the  heathen  world  is  composed  of  such 
families  in  myriads  and  in  millions — all  kindred  to  ourselves, 
all  perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge,  all  capable  of  obtaining 
invaluable  help  at  our  hands. 

Let  us  remember  next,  or  rather  first,  lost  Israel — bound 
to  us  by  the  tie  common  to  them  and  all  mankind,  because 
children  of  one  father  Adam ;  but  having  another  tie  pecu- 
liarly their  own,  because  their  father  Abraham  according  to 
the  flesh  is  our  father  Abraham  according  to  faith.  If  they 
thought  on  us  while  yet  their  'little  sister  without  breasts' 
and  without  beauty;  let  us  think  in  return  on  them  when  the 
bridal  ring  has  been  put  on  our  hand,  and  our  elder  and  come- 
lier  sister  now  sits  a  desolate  widow.  In  her  desolation  she 
is  not  forgotten  by  her  God,  'since  he  spake  against  her  he 
earnestly  remembers  her  still,' and  she  will  yet  'be  spoken 
for,'  and  be  called  as  a  wife  of  youth  when  she  had  been  re- 
fused. 'Blessed,'  meanwhile,  'are  all  they  that  love  her,  and 
all  that  mourn  for  her,  that  they  may  sing  with  her  in  the  day 
of  her  gladness.' 

Poor  nation!  whose  sweet  sap  and  juice 
Our  scions  have  purloined,  and  left  you  dry: — 
Who  by  not  keeping  once,  became  a  debtor ; 

And  now  by  keeping  lose  the  letter. 

O  that  my  prayers — mine  alas  ! 
O  that  some  angel  might  a  trumpet  sound , 
At  Avhich  the  Church  falling  upon  her  face, 
Should  cry  so  loud  until  the  trump  were  drown'd, 
And  by  that  cry,  of  her  dear  Lord  obtain 

That  your  sweet  sap  might  come  again ! — Herbert, 

Our  own  lost  let  us  not  forget ;  our  neighbours  lost,  our  chil- 
e5 


484  THE   CLOSING   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  10. 

dren  lost,  our  kindred  lost ;  subjects  of  the  same  kingdom, 
citizens  of  the  same  city,  members  of  the  same  family  and 
household.  None  can  tell  how  soon  they  may  '  be  spoken  for'; 
how  near  the  effectual  call  to  eternal  life  may  have  ajjproached 
the  door  of  their  hearts;  how  speedily  the  King  may  be  enter- 
ing in  to  sup  with  them  in  bridal  covenant.  Let  us  not  hin- 
der, but  hasten  the  holy  union ;  nay,  let  us  be  of  those  who 
'speak  for  them,'  Avho  plead  for  them  with  the  King,  and  en- 
treat him  to  betroth  them  to  himself. 

2.  Let  us  learn  from  this  parable  that  'the  last  shall  be  first 
and  the  first  shall  be  last';  and  let  us  hold  ourselves  in  readi- 
ness to  receive  all  whom  tlie  Lord  lias  owned.  In  every  age 
of  the  Church,  the  little  sister  received  by  Christ  has  been  a 
sturablingblock  to  the  first-born  daughter.  'He  that  is  not 
against  us  is  with  us,'  is  a  lesson  which  every  generation  of 
the  Lord's  people  have  to  learn  anew  for  themselves;  which 
they  are  often  slow  to  learn ;  and  the  refusal  of  which  is  both 
injurious  to  the  spread  of  the  Gospel,  and  most  hurtful  to  their 
own  souls.  'We  saw  one  casting  out  devils  in  thy  name  and 
we  forbade  him  because  he  followed  not  with  us — forbid  him 
not,  for  no  man  that  casteth  out  devils  in  my  name  can  lightly 
speak  evil  of  me.'  There  is  a  man  baptized  with  the  Holy 
Ghost  and  with  fire — pressed  in  spirit,  he  is  testifying  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ — men  crowd  to  hear  at  his  lips  the  words 
of  everlasting  life.  We  must  disown  him;  for  we  taught  him 
not — we  sent  him  not — we  ordained  him  not;  before  we  re- 
ceive him  we  must  impose  on  him  our  training  for  the  minis- 
try, and  our  laying  on  of  hands;  the  yoke  that  was  profitable 
for  us  must  be  necessary  for  him,  he  cannot  in  one  hour  be 
made  equal  with  us  who  have  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of 
of  the  day!  'We  have  a  little  sister  and  she  hath  no  breasts, 
what  shall  we  do  for  her  in  the  day  that  she  shall  be  spoken 
for?' — the  King  has  now  received  her,  and  she  has  become  his 
Bride — shall  we  send  her  back  beneath  the  trammels  of  in- 
fancy and  childhood  and  long  preparation  for  the  marriage, 
such  as  we  ourselves  rightly  underwent?  Nay;  rather,  whom 
God  hath  owned  let  us  not  disallow — for  who  are  we  to  with- 
stand Him,'  when  he  hath  already  bestowed  the  seal  of  his 


CHAP.  VIII.  11,  12.    TRAXSFEEENCE  OF  THE  VINEYARD.     485 

own  gifts?  Let  us  rather  grant  every  aid  and  furtherance — 
let  us  afford  every  encouragement — let  us  welcome  to  every 
privilege.  'If  she  be  a  wall,  let  us  build  thereon  a  palace  of 
silver;  if  she  be  a  door,  let  us  enclose  it  with  boards  of  cedar.' 


THE  TRANSFERENCE  OF  THE  VINEYARD. 

Solomon  had  a  vineyard  at  Baal-hamon;  he  Jet  out  the  vine- 
yard unto  keepers;  every  one  for  the  fruit  thereof  was  to  bring  a 
thousand,  pieces  of  silver.  3Iy  vineyard  which  is  mine  is  before 
me:  thou,  0  Solomon,  must  have  a  thousand,  and  those  that  keep 
the  fruit  thereof  two  hundred. — Solomon  is  the  Messiah;  and 
Baal-hamon — the  owner,  or  the  place,  of  a  multitude  (Gesen.) — 
is,  no  doubt,  either  Jerusalem  or  the  land  of  Israel,  whose  peo- 
ple in  the  days  of  Solomon  'were  as  the  sand  which  is  by  the 
sea  in  multitude.'  It  is  the  Little  Sister,  as  now  the  Bride  of 
Solomon,  who  narrates  the  history  of  her  husband's  vineyard; 
or,  it  is  the  united  Church  of  Jew  and  Gentile,  forming  one 
Bride;  but  in  either  case,  no  longer  the  Jewish  hierarchy,  but 
the  true  Bride  of  the  Lamb.  She  gives  an  account  of  the  vine- 
yard, first  as  under  the  charge  of  its  original  keepers,  and  next 
as  committed  to  her  own  care,  in  words  which  need  little  expla- 
nation, because  they  scarcely  differ  from  the  words  of  our  Lord 
himself.  The  vineyard  was  let  to  keepers  who  were  to  render 
its  fruits  to  the  King — they  were  to  render  them,  but  the 
silence  as  to  the  fulfilment  implies  that  the  covenant  was  not 
kept.  When  the  great  Proprietor  sent  for  the  fruits  in  their 
season,  the  keepers  of  the  vineyard  sent  his  servants  away 
empty ;  and,  as  Jesus  adds,  they  beat  his  servants,  and  at  last 
slew  his  Son. 

The  New  Testament  Church  now  declares  that  by  the  Lord's 
grant  the  vineyard  is  hers,  'my  vineyard  which  is  mine,  O 
Solomon  !'  and  undertakes  through  grace  that  she  will  never 
lose  sight  of  it,  'my  vineyard  is  before  me.'  She  further  en- 
gages to  assign  to  those  who  labour  in  it  a  suitable  and  moder- 
ate maintenance,  because  the  Lord  ordains  that  'they  who 
preach  the  gospel  should  live  of  the  gospel ';  and  allots  'two 
hundred  pieces  of  silver  to  those  that  keep  the  fruit  of  it.'    At 


486  THE   CLOSING   SOXG.         CHAP.  VIII.  11,  12. 

the  same  time  she  promises  that  the  full  revenue  shall  only  be 
the  Lord's,  and  that  she  will  never  attempt,  like  her  prede- 
cessor, to  claim  the  vineyard  as  her  own — 'Thou,  O  Solomon! 
must  have  a  thousand.'  The  property  of  the  vineyard  is  his, 
the  honour  his,  the  fruit  and  revenue  his;  yet  she  devotes 
herself  to  it  with  her  whole  heart  and  soul  as  if  it  were  her 
own — 'my  vineyard,  which  is  mine,  is  before  me.'  It  is  her 
Lord's,  she  'is  bought  with  a  price'  and  belongs  to  him  in  her 
person,  her  property,  her  work;  but  it  is  her  husband's,  'her 
Beloved  is  hers,'  and  all  that  he  hath  is  hers — his  person,  his 
property,  and  his  work  are  all  hers.  There  are,  therefore,  no 
separate  interests  and  no  rival  claims;  but  all  that  is  his  is 
hers,  and  all  that  is  hers  is  his. 

Kings  of  the  earth  their  vineyards  leave 

To  hireling  labourers'  sordid  hands, 
And  but  a  partial  share  receive 

Of  increase  of  the  fertile  lands. 
The  vineyard  of  my  Lord  is  mine, 

No  separate  interest  \vc  own ; 
Its  gain  and  hire  alike  combine, 

For  Bride  and  Bridegroom  both  are  one. — Grad.  of  Oxf, 

There  is  a  remarkable  agreement  between  this  passage,  and 
the  reference  to  the  Lord's  vineyard  in  the  fifth  chapter  of 
Isaiah.  The  prophet  sings  'a  song  of  my  Well-beloved  (or 
Beloved,  for  the  original  word  is  the  same)  touching  his  vine- 
yard ;'  he  takes  this  title  of  Beloved  from  the  Song  of  Solomon, 
and  explains  that  the  Beloved  is  '  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  his  vine- 
yard the  house  of  Israel,  and  the  men  of  Judah  his  pleasant 
plant.'  In  the  seventh  chapter  he  adopts  the  same  number  of 
silver  pieces  as  Solomon  for  the  rent  paid  by  tenants;  'every 
one  for  the  fruit  thereof  was  to  pay  a  thousand  pieces  of  silver — 
every  place  where  there  were  a  thousand  vines  at  a  thousand 
silverlings.'  The  Song  of  Solomon  was  evidently  much  in 
the  mind  of  Isaiah,  and  he  refers  to  it  more  or  less  directly  in 
almost  every  page  of  his  prophecies.  '  The  King  hath  brought 
me  into  his  chambers — come  my  people,  enter  into  thy  cham- 
bers.' 'I  am  the  Rose  of  Sharon — the  desert  shall  blossom  as 
the  rose,  the  excellency  of  Sharon.'     'Tell  me  where  thou 


CHAP.  VIII.  11,  12.   TRANSFERENCE  OF  THE  VINEYARD.     487 

feedest  tliy  flock — where  is  he  that  brought  them  up  out  of 
the  sea  with  the  shepherd  of  his  flock?  he  shall  feed  his  flock 
like  a  shepherd.'  'Thy  cheeks  are  comely  with  rows  of  jew- 
els— as  a  bride  adorneth  herself  with  her  jewels.'  'His  fruit 
was  sweet  unto  my  taste — the  Branch  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
glorious,  and  the  fruit  of  the  earth  excellent  and  comely  for 
them  that  are  escaped  of  Israel.'  '  His  banner  over  me  was 
love;  I  charge  you  that  ye  stir  not  up  nor  awake  my  Love — ■ 
there  shall  be  a  root  of  Jesse  for  an  ensign  to  the  people,  and 
his  rest  shall  be  glorious.'  '  Behold  he  cometh  leaping  on  the 
mountains,  skipping  on  the  hills — behold  the  Lord  God  will 
come;  every  valley  shall  be  exalted,  and  every  mountain  and 
hill  shall  be  brought  low.'  'Rise  up  ray  love,  for  the  rain  is 
over  and  gone — this  is  as  the  waters  of  Noah  unto  me;  I  have 
sworn  that  I  would  not  be  wroth  with  thee.'  'Arise  my  fair 
one — arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come.'  'O  my  dove,  let  me 
see  thy  countenance — who  are  these  that  fly  as  doves  to  their 
wdndows?'  'By  night  on  my  bed  I  sought  him — with  my 
soul  have  I  desired  thee  in  the  night.'  'Until  the  day  break 
and  the  shadows  flee  away — they  that  dwell  in  the  land  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  upon  them  hath  the  light  shined.'  'The 
watchmen  that  go  about  the  city — I  have  set  watchmen  upon 
thy  walls,  O  Jerusalem!'  'I  held  him,  I  would  not  let  him 
go — there  is  none  that  stirreth  himself  up  to  take  hold  of  thee.' 
'I  brought  him  to  my  mother's  house — where  is  the  bill  of 
your  mother's  divorcement?'  'Who  is  this  that  cometh  out 
of  the  wilderness? — who  is  this  that  cometh  from  Edom?'  'the 
covering  thereof  purple — with  dyed  garments  from  Bozrah?' 
'  Like  pillars  of  smoke — the  Lord  will  create  upon  every  dwell- 
ing-place of  Mount  Zion  a  cloud  and  smoke  by  day.'  '  In  the 
day  of  his  espousals  and  in  the  day  of  the  gladness  of  his  heart 
— as  the  bridegroom  rcjoiceth  over  the  bride,  so  shall  thy  God 
rejoice  over  thee,'  '  Behold  King  Solomon  !  the  King  is  held 
in  the  galleries,  he  is  altogether  lovely — thine  eyes  shall  see 
the  King  in  his  beauty.'  'Thy  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  scar- 
let— woe  is  me,  for  I  am  of  unclean  lips;  thine  iniquity  is 
taken  away  and  thy  sin  purged.'  'Thy  neck  is  like  the  tower 
of  David — loose  thyself  from  the  bands  of  thy  neck;  like  a 


488  THE    CLOSING   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  11, 12. 

tower  of  ivory — shake  thyself  from  the  dust.'  'Come  with 
me,  my  Spouse! — the  Lord  hath  called  thee  as  a  wife  of  youth; 
thy  Maker  is  thy  husband.'  'Thy  plants  are  an  orchard  of 
pomegranates,  with  all  trees  of  frankincense — I  will  plant  in 
the  wilderness  the  cedar,  the  shittah-tree,  the  myrtle,  and  the 
oil-tree,  trees  of  righteousness,  the  planting  of  the  Lord.'  'A 
fountain  of  gardens — a  garden  that  hath  no  water;  a  well  of 
living  waters,  and  streams  from  Lebanon — Ho!  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters.'  'Awake,  O  north  wind,  and 
come  thou  south  ! — awake,  awake,  O  arm  of  the  Lord!'  'I 
have  drunk  my  wine  with  my  milk,  I  have  eaten  my  honey- 
comb— and  shall  call  his  name  Immanuel,  butter  and  honey 
shall  he  eat.'  'Eat,  O  friends,  yea,  drink  abundantly,  O  be- 
loved ! — come !  yea  come  buy  wine  and  milk  without  money ; 
eat  ye  that  which  is  good!'  'His  head  is  as  the  most  fine 
gold — I  will  make  a  man  more  precious  than  fine  gold.'  'His 
cheeks  are  as  a  bed  of  spices — I  gave  my  cheeks  to  them 
that  plucked  off  the  hair.'  '  What  is  thy  Beloved  more 
than  another  Beloved? — who  hath  believed  our  report,  and  to 
whom  is  the  Lord  revealed  ?'  '  His  countenance  as  Lebanon — 
the  glory  of  Lebanon.'  'His  countenance  is  as  Lebanon,  (his 
form)  excellent  as  the  cedars — his  visage  was  so  marred  more 
than  any  man,  and  his  form  more  than  the  sons  of  men.'  'Thou 
art  beautiful  as  Tirzah,  comely  as  Jerusalem,  terrible  as  an 
army  with  banners — I  will  make  thy  windows  of  agates,  and 
all  thy  borders  of  pleasant  stones;  we  have  a  strong  city,  sal- 
vation for  walls  and  bulwarks.'  '  The  queens  saw  and  praised 
her — the  kings  shall  shut  their  mouths  at  him.'  'Who  is  this 
that  looketh  forth  as  the  morning? — then  shall  thy  light  break 
forth  as  the  morning.'  'I  Avent  down  into  the  garden  of  nuts, 
to  see  whether  the  vine  flourished  and  the  pomegranates  bud- 
ded— for  as  the  earth  bringeth  forth  her  bud,  and  as  the  garden 
causeth  the  things  that  are  sown  in  it  to  spring  forth,  so  the 
Lord  God  will  cause  righteousness  and  praise  to  spring  forth 
before  all  the  nations.'  'O  Shulamite!  (peaceful),  how  beauti- 
ful are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  O  Prince's  daughter! — how  beauti- 
ful upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  that  publisheth 
peace!'  'Thine  eyes  are  like  the  fish-pools  in  Heshbon — I 
will  water  thee  with  my  tears,  O  Heshbon.'    '  Thine  head  upon 


CHAP.  VIII.  11.12.      TRANSFERENCE  OF  THE  VINEYARD.    489 

thee  is  like  Carmel — the  excellency  of  Carmel.'  '  Thy  breasts 
shall  be  as  the  clusters  of  the  vine — that  ye  may  suck  and  be 
satisfied  with  the  breasts  of  her  consolations.'  'O  that  thou 
wert  as  my  brother  ! — O  that  thou  wouklst  rend  the  heavens 
and  come  down!'  'Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm — I  have 
graven  thee  on  the  palms  of  my  hands.'  'The  coals  thereof 
are  coals  of  fire — as  when  the  melting  fire  burnetii.'  'We  have 
a  little  sister  and  she  hath  no  breasts — sing  O  barren  that 
bearest  not;  in  that  day  Israel  shall  be  third  with  Egypt  and 
Assyria.'  Then  there  is  the  vineyard  which  is  referred  to 
throughout  the  Song  of  Solomon,  and  throughout  the  prophecy 
of  Isaiah.  The  reader,  if  so  disposed,  will  probably  be  able 
to  find  many  more  similar  allusions,  as  we  have  attempted  no 
regular  comparison  of  the  two  books.  The  Spirit  of  God,  in 
raising  up  new  men  to  utter  his  mind,  ever  causes  them  to  give 
special  heed  to  his  words  already  uttered;  and  it  would  seem 
as  if  the  literal  outward  affinity  between  the  Song  of  Solomon 
and  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah,  in  being  placed  beside  each  other  in 
our  Bibles,  were  not  closer  than  the  mental  and  spiritual  affinity 
subsisting  between  the  inspired  writers  of  both.  Their  utter- 
ances, indeed,  are  often  in  the  way  of  contrast ;  and  the  whole 
of  the  fifty-third  of  Isaiah  appears  to  be  the  inspired  outburst 
of  a  full  heart  that  had  been  engaged  in  deep  meditation  on 
the  beauty  of  Immanuel,  as  described  by  Solomon  as  the  chiefest 
among  ten  thousand  and  altogether  lovely, — '  Who  hath  be- 
lieved the  report?  for  he  is  without  form  or  comeliness,  or 
beauty  that  we  should  desire  him.' 

But  let  us  not  omit  in  these  verses  the  contrast  as  resrards 
the  keeping  of  the  vineyard,  between  the  close  and  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Song.  '  Mine  own  vineyard  I  have  not 
kept'  is  historically  the  confession  of  the  Gentiles,  to  whom 
the  Lord's  vineyard  is  now  assigned  in  charge ;  but  it  is  equally 
the  confession  of  every  soul  that  has  departed  from  the  living 
God.  Now,  'he  that  confesseth  and  forsaketh  his  sin  shall  have 
mercy';  but  the  mere  acknowledgment  'I  have  not  kept  mine 
own  vineyard'  will  only  aggravate  the  condemnation,  if  it  be 
accompanied  by  no  desire  and  endeavour  to  keep  it.  The 
Bride,  compelled  at  the  beginning  to  confess  'mine  own  vine- 


490  THE    CLOSING   SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  13. 

yard  have  I  not  kept/  is  enabled  at  the  close  to  declare,  through 
grace,  '  my  vineyard  which  is  mine  is  before  me ' — I  am  keep- 
ing it  daily  and  diligently,  and  through  grace  will  endeavour 
to  keep  it  to  the  end.  Let  us  go  and  do  likewise,  and,  'being 
not  forgetful  hearers  but  doers  of  the  word,  we  shall  be  blessed 
in  our  deed.' 

Thou  that  dwellcst  in  the  gardens !  the  companions  hearken  to 
thy  voice;  cause  me  to  hear  it. — In  assigning  these  words  to  the 
Bridegroom  as  an  address  to  the  Bride,  there  is  scarcely  any 
difference  of  opinion.  The  Bride  who  confessed  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Song  that  she  had  wandered  from  her  own 
vineyard  and  not  kept  it,  now  not  only  keeps  the  vineyard, 
but  takes  up  her  abode  within  the  vineyard  or  garden  in  or- 
der to  take  charge  of  it.  It  is  no  lordship  over  the  heritage, 
for  'the  dwelling-place  in  a  garden'  is  described  by  Isaiah  as 
a  'cottage  in  a  vineyard' — not  the  mansion  of  the  owner,  but 
the  humble  lodging  of  the  vinedresser,  or  rather  in  this  case 
of  the  tenant  under  whom  the  vinedressers  labour,  for  the  vine- 
dressers are  'the  companions  who  hearken  to  her  voice.' 

It  is  the  Christian  Church  with  the  word  of  God  committed 
to  her;  the  care  of  souls  intrusted,  and  the  discipline  of  the 
Lord's  house  assigned,  to  her.  Apostles  and  elders,  compan- 
ions and  vinedressers,  hearken  to  her  voice,  as  Paul  and  the 
others  obeyed  the  council  at  Jerusalem,  though  in  part  it  con- 
sisted of  themselves.  It  is  the  Church  in  her  divinely-ordered 
assemblies  guiding  the  ministers,  elders,  and  members,  by  the 
word  and  Spirit,  under  Christ  the  Head.  Great  evil  arises  if 
the  companions  hearken  not  to  the  voice  of  the  Bride,  when 
that  voice  accords  with  her  Lord's ;  but  these  words  take  for 
granted  that  the  companions  will  so  hearken.  They  are  a 
solemn  charge  from  Christ  himself  to  the  Church  and  her  min- 
isters, to  let  their  voice  of  authority  be  ever  uttered  in  his 
])resence  and  by  his  Spirit;  to  let  their  voice  of  preaching  be 
ever  first  poured  out  as  in  his  ears;  and  especially  to  cause 
their  voice  of  prayer  to  be  ever  ascending  to  his  throne.  The 
word  of  direction  by  the  Church  to  her  members,  the  word 
of  preaching  by  ministers  to  the  people,  or  by  him  that  heareth 
when  he  saith  'Come!'  to  him  that  is  yet  far  off,  will  never 


CHAP.  VIII.  14.      THE  LAST  OF  THE  FOUR  MOUNTAINS.        491 

be  acceptable  and  never  profitable,  except  also  the  voice  of 
prayer  is  rising  to  Christ  in  heaven.  'We  will  give  oiirselvcs 
continually  to  prayer  and  to  the  ministry  of  the  word/  said 
the  apostles — continually  to  the  one  as  well  as  to  the  other; 
we  shall  be  as  diligent  in  causing  Christ  to  hear  the  word  of 
supplication,  as  in  causing  men  to  hear  the  word  of  salvation 
— when  '  the  companions  are  hearkening  to  our  voice,'  we  shall 
'cause  Him  to  hear  it.'  Oh  that  these  two  were  united! — that 
not  men  only,  but  Christ,  heard  the  voice  of  the  Church,  the 
voice  of  ministers,  the  voice  of  members  who  seek  to  spread 
the  word  abroad ! — '  cause  me  to  hear  it.'  Often  last — and  often  " 
least — is  the  direction  of  the  voice  to  Christ ;  men  are  more 
sure  of  hearing  it  than  Christ,  men  hear  more  of  it  than  Christ, 
and  men  often  hear  a  more  earnest  voice  than  that  which  arises 
to  the  Lord.  '  O  thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gardens !'  thou  who 
rightly  art  taking  up  thine  abode  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord, 
making  that  thy  home,  thy  rest,  thy  work,  thy  business,  thine 
object,  thy  life;  if  thy  companions  are  hearing  thy  voice,  or 
thou  art  seeking  that  they  should  hear  it — companions  once 
in  sin,  companions  now  in  grace,  or  'brethren  and  companions' 
by  any  bond ;  if  these  hear  thy  voice,  be  sure  that  Christ  hears 
it  also — more  earnestly  and  more  frequently  uttered  to  him 
than  to  them.  Eesolve  with  the  apostles  to  'give  thyself  to 
prayer'  first,  and  next  to  'ministering  the  word';  and  then 
shall  thy  words  be  with  profit,  for  he  'will  suffer  none  of  them 
to  fall  to  the  ground.'  'O  thou  that  dwellest  in  the  gardens! 
the  companions  hearken  to  thy  voice;  cause  me  to  hear  it.' 

THE   LAST   OF   THE   FOUR   MOUNTAINS. 

Make  haste,  my  beloved!  and  be  thou  like  to  a  roe  or  to  a  young 
hart  upon  the  mountains  of  spices. — In  a  book  in  which  there  is 
introduced  so  great  a  variety  of  aromatic  plants,  is  there  also 
in  this  mountain-roe  amongst  the  spices  a  reference  to  precious 
perfumes  found  on  earth?  The  allusion  may  be  that  which 
is  supposed  by  some  of  the  older  v/riters,  of  the  roe  being  per- 
fumed by  the  aromatic  shrubs  amongst  which  it  feeds;  but 
may  not  the  literal  roe  on  the  spicy  mountains  be  found  in  the 


492  THE   CLOSING   SOXG.  CHAP.  VIII.  11. 

musk-deer?  Musk  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  all  per- 
fumes, is  highly  valued  in  the  East,  and  both  the  perfume  and 
the  deer  from  which  it  is  taken  were  probably  well  known  to 
one  so  conversant  with  natural  history  as  Solomon.  The 
musk-deer  is  similar  in  size,  and  in  other  respects  not  unlike 
to  the  roe;  it  is  specially  the  roe  of  the  mountains,  for  its 
habitation  is  in  the  Asiatic  Alps ;  and,  fragrant  with  its  precious 
perfume  while  leaping  on  the  summits  of  the  lofty  hills,  may 
it  not  form  the  outward  emblem  in  this  roe  or  young  hart  on 
the  mountains  of  spices? 

As  there  are  four  gardens,  so  there  are  four  mountains  in 
the  Song — the  mountains  of  Bether,  the  mountains  of  the 
leopards,  the  mountain  of  myrrh,  and  the  mountain  of  spices. 
Other  mountains,  such  as  Gilead  and  Carmel,  are  introduced  as 
images,  but  there  are  only  these  four  that  form  part  of  the 
narrative  or  structure  of  the  Song ;  for  the  undefined  moun- 
tains at  the  commencement  of  the  second  Canticle  are  the  same 
as  the  mountains  of  Bether  toward  its  close ;  while  Lebanon, 
Shenir,  and  Amana,  from  which  the  Bride  is  invited  to  come, 
are  the  hills  of  the  lions'  dens  and  the  mountains  of  the  Jeop- 
ards. The  mountain  of  spices  in  this  last  verse  of  the  Song 
must  be  distinguished  from  the  mountain  of  myrrh  from  which 
the  Bridegroom  has  already  returned,  and  must  of  necessity 
constitute  a  fourth  mountain  in  some  respect — although  we 
are  disp:>sed  to  identify  it  with  the  hill  of  frankincense,  taken 
in  distinction  from  the  mountain  of  myrrh. 

There  Is  no  reference  to  spice  mountains  of  any  kind,  till 
the  Bridegroom  announces  on  the  approach  of  evening  that  he 
is  about  to  rest  in  the  mountain  of  myrrh  till  the  morning. 
The  previous  mountains  over  which  he  is  to  leap  like  the  roe 
are  only  mountains  of  Bether  or  hills  of  division — of  division 
between  us  and  God,  division  between  us  and  Christ.  They 
are  mountains  of  holiness  and  righteousness  in  Jehovah — 'his 
justice  like  the  great  mountains,  his  truth  rising  to  the  clouds,' 
and  all  dividing  us  from  God  and  from  peace.  Jesus  sur- 
mounts all  those  mountains  in  his  meritorious  life  and  death, 
and  tlie  mountains  of  Bether  are  converted  into  mountains  of 
spices — most  fragrant  to  the  Father  in  heaven,  and  full  of 


CHAP.  VIII.  14.      THE  LAST  OF  THE  FOUR  MOUNTAINS.        493 

sweetest  perfume  for  men  on  earth.  Next  come  the  hills  of 
the  lions'  dens  and  the  mountains  of  the  leopards — mountains 
of  sin,  of  the  world,  strongholds  of  Satan.  Jesus  assaults 
these  strongholds  and  takes  them,  binds  the  strong  one  that 
kept  his  prisoners  in  his  dreadful  den,  breaks  our  chains,  opens 
our  dungeon  doors,  and  invites  us — '  Come  with  me,  my  sis- 
ter, my  spouse,  from  the  lions'  dens  and  from  the  mountains  of 
the  leopards !'  These  mountains,  also,  are  turned  for  Christ 
and  his  people  into  mountains  of  fragrant  spices;  for  'through 
death  Christ  hath  destroyed  him  that  has  the  power  of  death; 
out  of  the  strong  one  hath  come  forth  sweetness;'  and  bruised 
'  foes  have  been  made  a  fragrant  footstool  for  Christ '  and  his 
redeemed.  The  third  mountain  is  the  mountain  of  myrrh, 
which  is  certainly  the  sepulchre  on  Mount  Calvary  where  Je- 
sus lay  embalmed  as  in  a  vast  heap  of  myrrh  and  aloes,  brought 
by  Nicodemus  and  his  friends.  The  Bride  expressly  calls  that 
mountain  '  a  garden ;'  and  speaks  of  it  not  at  all  as  she  now 
does  of  the  mountain  of  spices,  but  as  implying  depth  as  well 
as  height,  when  she  says  that  he  '  has  gone  down  to  his  gar- 
den to  the  beds  of  spices.'  But  from  the  time  when  the  Bride- 
groom says  that  he  '  will  get  him  to  the  mountain  of  myrrh 
and  the  hill  of  frankincense,'  he  has  given  no  intimation  what- 
ever in  the  Song  where  he  is  to  abide  till  he  returns  for  the 
marriage ;  yet  just  as  the  Bride  knew  before  that  he  had  gone 
down  to  the  '  garden  of  spices,'  she  knows  now  that  he  is 
tarrying  on  '  the  mountains  of  spices,'  and  entreats  him  to  de- 
scend from  their  lofty  summits.  We  therefore  conclude  that 
the  Bridegroom  makes  a  double  intimation  in  the  *  mountain 
of  myrrh  and  hill  of  frankincense.'  In  his  brief  returning 
interview  he  had  come  from  the  'mountain  of  myrrh  ;'  but  he 
has  gone  again,  and  whither? — 'to  the  hill  of  frankincense;' 
and  therefore  she  now  entreats  him  to  come  down  from  this 
'  mountain  of  spices.'  A  double  mountain  he  spoke  of,  and  a 
rest  on  each;  a  double  night  of  absence  from  the  Bride  on 
earth,  first  in  his  death  and  now  in  his  ascension;  a  double 
rest,  first  in  the  grave  and  now  in  heaven;  and  a  double 
morning,  first  of  his  own  resurrection,  and  then  of  his  appear- 
ing again  in  glory  in  the  morning  of  the  general  resurrection 
of  all  that  are  in  their  graves. 


494  THE   CLOSING  SONG.  CHAP.  VIII.  14. 

Jesus  is  now  on  the  hill  of  frankincense,  standing  on  the 
fragrant  mountain  of  his  own  finished  work,  'an  High  Priest 
consecrated  for  evermore';  and  from  that  mountain  continually 
'  much  incense  is  given  to  him,  and  it  ascends  out  of  his  hands 
wMth  the  prayers  of  all  saints.'  Saints  on  earth  rejoice  because 
he  is  on  the  mountains  of  spices — because  the  fragrance  of  his 
merits  and  death  is  like  the  'great  mountains' — because  there 
are  sweet  odours  enough  to  burn  perpetually  night  and  day  be- 
fore Jehovah;  much  incense  offered  and  a  vast  cloud  of  fragrance 
ascending  without  ceasing.  These  mountains  of  spices  are  more 
fragrant  than  our  sins  are  offensive,  as  the  high  and  holy  Ser- 
vant and  Sufferer  is  greater  than  the  merely  human  trans- 
gressor ;  these  mountains  of  spices  are  greater  than  the  moun- 
tains of  our  sins,  'as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth,'  and  as  the 
hill  of  God  is  higher  than  'mountains  of  leopards  and  dens  of 
lions.' 

But  although  it  is  profitable  for  us  that  Jesus  has  departed; 
and  although  by  the  Spirit  we  now  enjoy  more  of  his  true 
presence,  than  when  he  was  seen  by  his  disciples  on  earth  with 
less  enlightening  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  yet  the  Bride  de- 
sires not  that  the  Beloved  should  tarry  for  ever  on  these  fra- 
grant mountains,  but  that  he  would  descend  from  them  to  her, 
like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart — 'Make  haste,  my  Beloved!  and 
be  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart  on  the  mountains  of  spices.'  Je- 
sus is  beautiful  like  the  mountain  roe  in  her  eyes,  not  feared, 
not  shunned,  but  loved  and  desired;  swift  like  the  young  hart 
are  his  feet,  yet  not  too  swift  for  her  longings,  but  beautiful 
in  their  speed.  The  Bridegroom  seems  to  tarry  long,  but  when 
'  he  that  cometh  shall  come,  he  comes  and  does  not  tarry.' 
'Behold,  I  come  quickly,  surely  I  come  quickly:  Amen.  Even 
so,  come,  Lord  Jesus!' 

Come,  Lord,  my  head  doth  burn,  my  heart  is  sick, 

While  thou  dost  ever,  ever  stay : 
Thy  long  defer  rings  wound  me  to  the  quick, 
My  spirit  gaspeth  night  and  day. 
O  show  thyself  to  rae, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee' 


CHAP.  VIII.  14.      THE  LAST  OF  THE  FOUR  MOUNTAINS.        495 

Yet  if  thou  stayest  still,  why  must  I  stay? 

My  God,  what  is  this  world  to  me? 
This  world  of  woe?  hence  all  ye  clouds,  away! 

Away  I  I  must  get  up  and  see.  \ 

O  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

We  talk  of  harvests;  there  are  no  such  things. 

But  when  we  leave  our  corn  and  hay. 
There  is  no  fruitful  year,  but  that  which  brings 
The  last  and  loved,  though  dreadful,  day. 
O  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

Herbert, 


NOTES. 


To  present  the  opinions  of  others  in  a  commentary  instead  of  his  own 
ia  the  easiest  method  for  the  author,  the  most  laborious  for  the  reader, 
the  worst  for  practical  ends,  but  in  some  respects  the  best  for  imparting 
information.  As  we  have  not  adopted  this  mode,  our  first  design  v.as  to 
add  pretty  copious  notes  on  the  whole  Book,  but  in  our  original  plan  we 
had  not  included  what  forms  the  first  part  of  the  exposition  on  the  struc- 
ture of  the  Song.  This  has  increased  the  volume  so  far  beyond  its  ex- 
pected limits,  that  we  can  only  select  out  of  Avhat  we  had  designed  as 
notes  a  few  on  the  more  difiicult  or  important  passages;  but  although  in 
our  exposition  we  have  usually  presented  no  more  than  our  own  judgment 
on  each  passage,  we  have  never  formed  that  judgment  hastily,  but  have 
examined  what  has  been  written  on  every  verse  of  the  book  with  the 
same  care  as  in  the  few  verses  adduced  in  these  notes. 

The  question  of  the  Inspiration  of  the  Song  we  have,  not  taken  up,  and 
shall  not  attempt  it  now,  both  for  the  reason  just  assigned,  and  on  account 
of  our  full  conviction  that  the  single  question  in  this  respect  is  that  of 
interpretation.  As  a  question  of  evidence  it  is  substantially  the  same  as 
the  rest  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures,  for  any  specific  objections  are 
extremely  minute,  and  relate  rather  to  the  age  and  the  author  of  the  Song 
than  its  place  in  the  inspired  records.  They  are  such  as  the  occurrence 
of  the  word  Paradise,  and  the  "'  ( Yod)  in  TH  David,  which  are  alleged  by 
some  to  belong  to  a  later  age  than  Solomon's.  The  reader  will  find  the 
latter  point  most  elaborately  discussed  by  Dr.  Gill,  and  the  objection 
removed.  But  even  if  the  points  of  this  character,  both  few  and  minute, 
were  more  than  they  are,  it  is  a  most  deceptive  kind  of  criticism  regarding 
ages  of  which  we  have  so  few  remaining  records;  and  often  rests  merely 
on  the  opinion  of  some  individual  critic,  which  is  in  its  turn  set  aside  by 
the  judgment  of  some  abler  scholar  who  succeeds  him.  Were  such  evi- 
dence to  be  resorted  to  at  all,  instead  of  the  sure  ground  of  testimony,  we 
should  attach  much  more  weight  to  a  literary  judgment  on  the  general 
style  and  character  of  the  book ;  and  we  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  if— 
setting  aside  such  uncertain  minutiae — the  Song  of  Solomon  were  placed 
in  the  hands  of  a  jury  of  literary  men  to  assign  its  age,  they  would  unani- 
mously place  it  between  the  Psalms  and  the  Prophets, 

The  only  real  question  is  that  of  interpretation,  because  if  the  allegorical 
interpretation  is  received,  all  will  own  the  evidence  of  inspiration  to  be 


498  NOTES.  CHAP.  I.  1-4. 

most  ample ;  but  if  it  is  interpreted  literally  there  are  many  thoughtful 
men  whom  no  amount  of  evidence,  short  of  miraculous  proof  to  the  in- 
dividual, would  induce  to  receive  it  as  the  inspired  word  of  God.  '  It  was 
chiefly  the  subject  of  the  poem  that  influenced  Dr.  J,  Pye  Smith  in  re- 
jecting the  Canticles  from  the  canon'  (Kitto's  Bib.  Cyc).  We  are  not 
forgetting  that  Michaelis  interprets  literally,  and  allows  the  inspiration, 
holding  that  chaste  conjugal  love  is  a  fit  subject  for  a  pen  divinely  inspired. 
But  how  few  will  concur  with  him  when  the  whole  of  his  view  is  taken 
into  the  account, — how  few  will  believe  tho.t  the  holy  word  of  God  is 
occupied  throughout  a  whole  book  with  nothing  higher  than  the  com- 
plicities of  polygamy,  tolerated  though  it  was  for  a  season!  But  if  the 
Song  of  Solomon  is  received  as  a  pure  allegory,  as  it  unquestionably  is,  all 
■who  own  the  Bible  will  at  once  accept  it  as  inspired. 

Chap.  I.  l.—TiieSongofSongs—B.Qh.  ri^Sif/S  n"^X  Dn;::?n  -i't^;  Sept. 
da^a  gajiaTuv  o  tan  I,a/iuft.6v ;  Vulg.  Canticum  Canticorum  Salomonis. 
Origen  states  that  it  was  sometimes  entitled  Cantica  Canticorum,  but  he 
censures  this  as  incorrect. 

In  the  English  Bibles,  Wyclifie  has — 'Here  begynnyth  the  Boke  that 
is  clepid  Songis  of  Songis  of  the  Bridulis  of  Crist  and  of  the  Chirche.' 
Coverdale's  title  is — 'Salomon's  Balettes  called  Cantica  Canticorum.' 
The  Great  Bible,  and  all  the  rest  we  have  seen  down  to  the  Geneva,  en- 
title it  'The  Ballet  (or  Ballate)  of  Ballettes  of  Salomon.'  The  Geneva, 
usually  very  accurate,  but  in  this  instance  taking  more  liberty  than  any 
that  preceded  or  followed  it,  gives  not  the  translation  but  the  meaning  of 
the  title — 'An  excellent  Song  which  was  Salomon's.'  Fenner  (1587)  is 
the  first  who  resumes  the  old  title  and  calls  it  'the  Song  of  Songs.'  In 
the  titles  of  the  foreign  modern  versions,  there  is  nothing  remarkable. 
The  title  of  the  Targum  is  rather  an  explanation,  but  a.  noble  one,  'The 
songs  and  hymns  which  Solomon  the  prophet,  King  of  Israel,  delivered 
by  the  Spirit  of  prophecy,  before  Jehovah  the  Lord  of  the  whole  world.' 

2.  Let  him  Hss  me. — Wycliffe, '  Kysse  he  me  with  the  cosse  of  his  mouth'  ; 
Fenner,  'O  with  the  kisses  of  his  mouth  let  him  kiss  mine!' 

3.  Because  of  the  savour. — Heb.  nnS.  Dr.  Hodgson,  followed  by  Good, 
Fry,  and  others — 'Like  the  scent  of  thine  own  sweet  perfumes  is  thy 
name,  a  perfume  poured  out.'  Most  of  the  older  Bibles  connect  it  with 
the  preceding — 'Better  than  wine,  and  that  because  of  the  good  and 
pleasant  savour  of  thy  most  precious  baulmes. — Bishops'  Bible.  On  the 
whole,  we  prefer  the  common  translation  to  either. 

Thy  name  is  as  ointment  poured  forth. — The  Geneva  is  the  first  Bible 
that  inserts  as,  which  is  better  omitted.  '  Thy  name  is  a  sweet-smellynge 
ointment  when  it  is  shed  forth.' — Bishops'  Bible. 

iVame— Heb.  'l^?';  ointment — Heb.  ji??'-  'Elegans  hie  Paronomasia 
inter  Hebraicas  voces.' — Ker. 

4.  Draw  me,  we  will  run. — Me  quoque  cum  reliquis  sub  tua  jura  trahe. — 
Jonston. 


CHAP.  I.  4-7.  NOTES.  499 

The  King  hath  brought  me  into  his  chambers. — To  reconcile  this  clause 
with  the  petition  (ver.  7)  '  Tell  me  where  thou  feedest/  has  perplexed 
the  most  eminent  critics,  and  Harmer  says  it  is  impossible  to  reconcile 
them  except  by  translating  '  the  King  is  bringing  me,' — which  is  just 
bending  text  to  meet  the  difSculty.  The  whole  connexion  is  simi^le  by 
using  the  expression  '  we  will  remember'  as  the  key  to  the  passage,  and 
interpreting  'hath  brought'  as  referring  to  time  jjast.  This  appears  so 
obvious,  that  our  only  difficulty  has  been  in  not  meeting  with  it  in  .any 
of  the  commentaries ;  but  since  the  first  part  of  the  volume  was  printed, 
we  have  found  it  clearly  brought  out  by  Sanctius. 

We  will  remember  thy  love — Sept.  ayarrymiiev  ;  Vulg.,  memores  uberum  ; 
Montanus,  memorabimus;  Dathe,  celebramus;  Eosenmiiller,  celebra- 
bimus;  Percy,  Good,  Williams,  we  will  celebrate;  Wyclifte,  myndful; 
Great  Bible  and  Coverdale,  we  thynke  more  of;  Geneva,  we  will  remem- 
ber.    Compare  Gen.  xli.  9,  which  fully  justifies  the  common  translation. 

77ie  upright  love  thee — Marg.  they  love  thee  sincerely  [or  uprightly) — Heb. 
^Onx  D")D"0;  Sept.  ei'^i-w  J  Vulg.,  recti— so  Pagninus;  Origen,  equitas; 
Diod.,  gli  huomini  diritti;  Montanus,  rectitudines ;  Dathe,  probi ;  Wy- 
cliffe,  rigtmen;  Great  Bible,  they  that  be  righteous;  Coverdale  and 
Taverner,  well  is  them  that  love  thee;  Geneva,  the  righteous ;  Gesenius 
and  Eosenmuller,  sincerely;  Percy,  followed  by  Good,  thou  art  every 
way  lovely,  but  he  owns  that  'the Hebrew  can  hardly  be  brought  to  yield 
this  sense;'  Dr.  Lee  (of  Cambridge),  true,  direct,  persons. 

7.  Where  thou  viakest  thy  floch  to  rest  at  noon. — Origen  and  the  Greek 
Fathers  understand  this  to  mean,  under  the  full  blaze  of  the  noonday  sun, 
and  to  imply  the  desire  of  knowing  and  resting  with  Christ,  not  as  in 
twilight,  but  in  the  clearest  brightness  of  his  grace. 

On  this  clause  a  curious  instance  occurs  in  the  works  of  Augustine  (wa 
have  not  the  passage  now  before  us),  of  the  manner  in  which  ancient  dis- 
putants sometimes  endeavoured  to  defend  themselves  in  their  false  posi- 
tions, by  misinterpreting  and  misdividing  the  word.  The  Southern 
heretics  with  whom  he  is  contending  had  adduced  in  their  own  favour 
this  passage,  'Tell  me  where  thou  makest  thy  flock  to  rest,'  which  in  the 
Latin  is  'ubi  cubes  in  meridie' — signifying,  in  the  South,  as  well  as,  at 
noon ;  and  they  had  distributed  the  clause  into  two — '  Tell  me  where  thou 
restest?  In  the  South' — which  they  took  as  the  answer  to  the  inquiry, 
and  as  good  evidence  that  the  truth  remained  with  themselves  in  the 
South!  and  put  this  noble  champion  of  the  faith  to  some  trouble  in  cor- 
recting their  interpretation. 

As  one  that  turneth  aside — Sept.  ug  '7repi(ia?JMfihri ;  Vulg.,  ne  vagari  in- 
cipiam ;  Wycliffe,  lest  to  go  vaugrant  I  begynne ;  Coverdale,  lest  I  go 
wrong ;  Dathe,  oberrem ;  Hodgson  and  Good,  for  why  must  I  be  as  a  wan- 
derer? Margin,  as  one  that  is  veiled— w-hich  might  either  be  as  a  harlot 
or  as  a  mourner,  and  the  Latter  if  we  translate  it  veiled  we  should  rather 
prefer;  Montanus,  velut  operiens  se;  Diod.,  come  una  donna  velata; 
Rosenmiillcr,  tanquam  velata. 


500  xoTEs.  CHAP.  I.  8-9. 

8.  IJ thou  know  not — Sept.  cav  //?}  yvCiq  ceavryv ;  Vulg.,  si  ignoras  te  (if  thou 
kuoAV  not  thyself ) — from  which  many  good  but  irrelevant  comments  have 
been  made  on  self-knowledge  by  all  the  ancient  commentators. 

Beside  the  tents — Montanus,  super;  and  so  Fenner, 

And  doc  thou  feed  thy  young 
And  tender  goates  on  hye, 
Above  the  tabernacles  where 
The  other  shepherds  lye. 

9.  0  my  love — ^^\V^ ;  Sept.  tj  Trh/aiov  fiov ;  Vulg.,  arnica  mea ;  Ital.,  arnica 
mia;  French,  mon  amie.  It  is  correctly  enough  translated  my  love, 
though  literally  it  signifies  my  friend,  and  in  the  margin  of  ver.  15  is 
rendered  companion.  To  translate  it  so  would  not  be  more  accurate,  but 
it  would  have  the  advantage  of  distinguishing  it  from  other  similar 
words.  It  occurs  in  every  part  of  the  Song — nine  times  in  all :  i.  9,  15; 
ii.  2,  10,  13;  iv.  1,  7;  v.  2;  vi.  4.  Most  of  the  old  Bibles  translate  it 
my  love  ;  but  the  Great  Bible  has  my  soule;  one  of  the  WyclifFe  Bibles 
has  my  leef  (or  love),  and  the  other  my  frendesse,  which  is  the  most 
exact  translation.  Fenner,  Ainsworth,  and  others,  render  it  well — my 
fellow-friend. 

To  a  company  of  horses  in  Pha^'aolb' s  chariots — H^'^?  '??'??  '^"'^Q^'  Sept. 
TT)  Itvitu  /iov  ev  apfiacL  ^apai).  This  the  Vulgate  rightly  interprets  collec- 
tively, and  translates  equitatui  meo ;  Ital.,  alle  cavalle;  Portug.,  a'  minha 
cavalleria;  French  (not  well),  k  la  beautc  de  mes  chevaux;  Great  Bible, 
unto  the  boost  of  Pharaoh's  charettes  have  I  compared  thee  (Marg.,  Ex. 
c.  14) ;  Geneva,  to  the  troupes  of  horses  in  the  charets  of  Pharaoh.  Cover- 
dale  renders  it  rather  peculiarly,  There  wil  I  tary  for  the  (my  love)  with 
myne  boost,  and  with  my  charettes,  which  shall  be  no  fewer  than  Pharao's. 
This  is  not  very  different  from  the  sense  assigned  by  Origen  and  the 
Fathers,  They  followed  the  Septuagint,  but  interpreted  it  of  Christ,  re- 
ferring to  his  Chariots  by  which  at  the  Red  Sea  he  overcame  the  chariots 
of  Pharaoh.  Bossuet  translates,  equse  mete  ;  and  explains,  equse  pulcher- 
rimse.  Dr.  Hodgson  translates,  to  my  horses  in  Pharaoh's  chariots;  Good, 
to  one  of  the  steeds  ;  Dathe,  equis  ad  quadrigas  Pharaonis. 

Rosenmiiller  completely  vindicates  our  authorized  translation — 'a 
company  of  horses.'  His  words  are,  'Equabus  in  curribus  Pharaonis 
assimilo  te,  O  socia  mea.  Plures  reddunt  equce  mea; — minus  huic  tamen 
quadrat  quod  additur  in  curribus  Pharaonis.  Huic  recte  Hebraei  yod 
nomini  illi  additum  habent  pro  paragogico,  quale  est  in  Thren.  i.  1 :  lesai 
i.  21,  etc'  He  then  shows  that  the  classical  quotations  have  been  mis- 
interpreted, that  the  critics  have  failed  in  producing  a  single  example  in 
which  a  beautiful  woman  is  praised  by  comparison  to  a  mare,  and  that 
the  famous  instance  of  Helen  amounts  only  to  this,  that '  as  the  cypress  to 
a  garden,  or  the  Thessalian  horse  to  a  chariot,  so  Helen  was  an  ornament 
to  Lacedsemon.'    Sanctius  is  very  decided  that  it  is  the  chariot  host,  and 


CHAP.  I.  13-11.  1.  NOTES.  501 

asserts  that  the  comparison  to  a  mare  with  the  ancients  would  not  liave 
been  laudator}',  but  most  offensive;  and  on  a  classical  subject  his  autho- 
rity is  great.  See  also  Poli  Synopsis.  The  Targum  interprets  the  cem- 
parison  with  reference  to  the  Eed  Sea,  but  conceives  that  Israel  so  pro- 
voked God  that  they  would  have  been  drowned  like  Pharaoh's  chariots 
except  for  the  intercession  of  Moses.  The  other  Hebrew  interpreters,  as 
Jarchi  quoted  by  Ainsworth,  interpret  it  also  with  express  reference  to 
Pharaoh's  host. 

13.  A  bundle  of  myrrh — he  shall  lie  all  night. — Portuguese  Bible,  ella 
morara.  Ilariner  is  decided  that  from  the  structure  of  the  verse  it  must 
be  the  myrrh  that  is  referred  to  as  between  the  breasts,  and  that  the  idea 
is  only  that  of  abiding,  without  special  reference  to  night.  He  is  followed 
by  many  niodern  critics. 

15.  Doves'  ei/es. — Dr.  Hodgson — thine  eyes  are  like  doves.  We  incline 
to  agree  with  those  who  think  that  in  chap.  v.  12  the  comparison  is  to  the 
dove  itself  and  not  to  the  dove's  eye,  but  that  is  not  obvious  either  here 
or  in  chap.  iv.  1.  'To  conceive  the  force  of  this  expression  we  must  not 
refer  it  to  our  common  pigeons,  but  to  the  large  and  beautiful  eyes  of  the 
doves  of  Syria.  They  who  have  seen  that  fine  eastern  bird  the  carrier- 
pigeon  will  need  no  commentary  on  this  place'     (Bishop  Percy). 

16.  We  are  indebted  to  Bossuet  for  the  quotation  from  Augustine. 

Chap.  ii.  1.  The  Rose  of  Sharon— Hob.  "{^"^^T^  '"*vPn-  Sept.  avOo^  -ov 
TTeoiov,  Kpivov  ruv  Koi?Aduv ;  Parkhurst,  a  rosebud,  an  opening  rose ;  in  con- 
firmation of  which  he  cites  Aquila  who  renders  here  m?.v^,  and  in  Isaiah 
Ka/.vKuaig ;  Coverd.,  the  floure  of  the  felde,  and  lylie  of  the  valleys;  Genev., 
the  rose  of  the  field,  etc.  But  the  Great  Bible  and  the  Bishops'  put  each 
for  the  other  throughout — the  lylie  of  the  felde,  and  the  rose  of  the 
valleyes — as  the  rose  among  the  thorns,  and  so  everywhere.  The  dif- 
ficulty regarding  the  word  Rose  is,  because  it  occurs  only  here  and  in 
Isaiah  xxxv.  1 ;  but  we  are  satisfied  that  the  authorized  translation  is 
correct.  Percy,  Hodgson,  and  Good,  render  rose— so  does  Diodati.  Kitto 
says,  '  we  believe  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  rose  is  reallj^  intended 
by  the  Hebrew  word.  Even  if  in  the  general  sense  it  should  mean  but  a 
flower,  we  should  still  infer  that,  when  applied  in  a  particular  sense  it 
means  a  rose;  for  this  would  be  according  to  the  usage  of  the  East.  The 
extent  to  which  roses  flourished  in  and  near  Palestine  may  be  perceived 
from  the  testimonies  of  travellers.  Burckhardt  was  struck  with  the  num- 
ber of  rose-trees  which  he  found  growing  wild  among  the  ruins  of  Bozra 
beyond  Jordan ;  and  informs  us  that  roses  are  cultivated  with  much  suc- 
cess in  the  gardens  of  Mount  Sinai.  Mariti  found  the  greatest  quantity 
of  roses  in  the  hamlet  of  St.  John,  in  the  wilderness  of  the  same  name. 
"In  this  place  the  rose-trees  form  small  forests  in  the  gardens.'" 

What  the  lily  is,  and  what  its  colour,  are  questions  much  disputed. 
Kitto  says,  and  as  we  think  justly,  that  'the  Hebrew  word  seems  to  in- 
dicate that  the  lily  of  the  valley  was  one  of  those  plants  wherein  the  num- 


502  NOTES.  CHAP.  II.  7-III.  6. 

ber  nix  predominates  iu  the  distribution  of  their  parts,  as  the  crocus, 
asphodel,  daffodil,  lily,  etc'  Dr.  Lee  defines  the  word  the  white  lily,  and 
Ges^iius  derives  it  from  a  root  signifying  white.  There  is  no  reason, 
however,  to  doubt  that  it  signifies  a  red  lily  in  chap.  v.  13,  nor  any  difii- 
cuity  in  suj^posing  the  name  to  be  applicable  to  plants  the  same  or  similar 
in  form  though  varying  in  colour.  We  had  made  various  extracts  on  the 
lilies  or  supposed  lilies  of  Palestine,  especially  regarding  their  colour,  but 
as  each  traveller  has  a  different  lily  with  a  different  colour,  we  have  drawn 
our  pen  through  the  whole,  believing  that  we  possess  little  real  informa- 
tion on  the  subject. 

7.  3Ii/  love  till  he  please — ]*3nj7\^  1)^  n^nN;n-r>>?;  Sept.  r?>  ayaTvriv  jwf 
oil  -drelrjai);  Vulg.,  dilectam  quoadusque  ipsa  velit ;  Great  Bible,  till  she  be 
content  herself;  and  to  the  same  effect  Wycliffe,  Geneva,  and  almost  all 
our  English  Bibles — so  also  Hodgson.  But  Bishop  Percy,  Good,  the 
Editor  of  Calmet,  and  many  of  the  literal  interpreters,  as  well  as  most  of 
those  who  interjjret  spiritually,  agree  with  our  authorized  version  in  put- 
ting the  words  into  the  mouth  of  the  Bride — the  justice  of  which,  as  we 
think,  admits  of  no  doubt.  The  difficulty  arises  from  love  being  femi- 
nine. This  exact  expression  occurs  four  times — thrice  in  this  charge  and 
once  in  chap.  viii.  7,  'many  waters  cannot  quench  love';  and  the  whole 
difficulty  is  removed  by  translating  'that  ye  disturb  not  love  (or  this  love) 
till  love  itself  please.'  Editor  of  Calmet,  '  if  ye  disturb  this  comiilete 
affection,  till  affection  herself  desire  it';  and  many  others  to  the  same  effect. 

9.  LooJceth  forth — Percy,  Good,  etc.,  'looketh  in' — so  also  the  Great 
Bible;  the  Bishops',  showing  himself ;  marg.,  flourishing.  Some  take  it 
as  representing  the  Bridegroom  under  the  image  of  a  plant  growing  through 
the  latticed  window. 

12.  The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds — ^'P^H  J^i';  Sept.  Katfwg  Tfjq  TOfif/Q; 
Vulg.,  tempus  putationis;  Pagninus,  putationis;  Montanus,  cantus.  Lee 
gives  the  preference  to — pruning.  Hodgson,  Percy,  Good,  give,  singing. 
Wycliffe,  the  tyme  of  cuttin.  Geneva,  singing;  but  Coverdale  and  other 
old  Bibles  have  'the  twysting  time  is  come.'  Twyst  is  an  old  word  for 
twig,  and  the  meaning  no  doubt  is,  the  time  of  pruning  the  twigs. 

13.  Putteth  forth. — Percy,  Good.  Taylor,  etc.,  sweeteneth. 

15.  lahe  us  is  masculine,  just  as  the  companions  in  viii.  13  are,  and  the 
same  persons  are  addressed  in  both. 

17.  Until  the  day  break. — Mercerus,  whose  authority  is  good  for  the 
sense  of  the  Hebrew,  renders  this  'while  the  day  breaks,'  which  throws 
great  light  on  a  passage  otherwise  difficult. 

Chap.  hi.  6.  Who  is  this. — Because  this  is  feminine,  if  we  translate 
who  we  must  refer  the  words  to  the  Bride  or  the  Church  ;  but  almost  all 
the  modern  critics,  Percy,  Good,  Taylor,  etc.,  understand  it  of  the  palan- 
quin— what  is  this,  and  so  it  includes  both  the  Bridegroom  and  the  Bride. 
Gesenius  allows  it  to  mean  what  but  with  a  special  reference  to  persons, 
which  is  the  exact  idea — What  and  who. 


CHAP.  III.  7-IV.  12.  NOTES.  503 

7.  Bed. — Good,  Taylor,  etc.,  palanquin, — we  have  used  litter,  because 
it  is  a  biblical  word. 

9,  Chariot. — Our  translators  may  not  have  meant  a  wheeled  carriage 
by  chariot ;  and  we  haAmherefore  retained  the  word  chariot  in  our  trans- 
cription of  the  Song.  Bacon  seems  to  use  the  word  in  this  sense ;  '  he 
was  carried  in  a  rich   chariot  litter-wise.' — Johnson's  Diet. 

10.  Bottom. — Sept.  avanlLTov ;  Vulg.,  reclinatorium. 

Paved. — Vulg.,  constravit;  Sept.  ?ud6(jTpaTov.  Gesenius  says  it  signifies 
a  stone  pavement. 

Chap.  iv.  1.  Jaw  bone  of  the  ass  (see  p.  270). — In  the  Organ  Moun- 
tains of  Brazil,  the  proprietor  of  a  large  stock  of  mules  showed  me  a 
young  ass  on  which  he  set  a  high  value,  at  least  £70  in  English  money. 
It  was  a  strong  animal,  and  to  an  unpractised  eye  clumsy  ;  and  on  in- 
quiring why  he  reckoned  it  worth  so  much  he  said,  'Do  you  see  what  a 
jaw-bone  he  has  got?'  'Yes,  and  what  of  it?'  '  That  is  the  one  point 
we  look  to  in  the  ass  ;  contrary  to  the  rule  in  all  other  animals,  if  the 
jaw^-bone  is  large  the  ass  is  valuable.'  And,  certainly,  the  jaw-bone  was 
in  this  case  of  a  prodigious  size,  so  as  at  once  to  make  it  evident,  that  if 
it  was  such  another  that  Samson  found,  it  must  have  done  him  good  ser- 
vice in  the  day  of  battle.  The  Lord  delights  to  work  through  weak  in- 
struments ;  but  whether  it  is  the  sling  in  David's  hand,  or  the  jaw-bone 
of  the  ass  in  the  hand  of  Samson,  it  is  still  an  instrument  that  serves  its 
purpose  well. 

2.  None  barren — Hodgson  and  Good,  none  bereaved ;  Percy,  still  bet- 
ter— and  none  hath  lost  its  fellow. 

5,  Lilies. — Not  necessarily  'lilies  of  the  valleys'  growing  wild,  because 
the  twin  roes  have  the  aspect  of  being  not  quite  in  the  wilderness  and  re- 
moteness of  nature,  but  rather  as  feeding  in  the  king's  park  or  garden ; 
where  white  lilies  (if  they  are  not  native  in  Palestine,  which  we  are  far 
from  concluding)  though  introduced  at  first  by  the  hand  of  man,  might 
be  growing  luxuriantly  in  the  pastures. 

12.  HvD  "'nn^  7^i'3  p;  Sept.  K7]~og  KeK?^eca/ii:vog  aScl^y /xov  vv/x(l)7j ;  Vulg., 
hortus  couclusus  soror  mea  sponsa ;  WyclilFe,  a  closed  garden,  my  sister, 
spouse,  and  he  interprets  the  garden  of  the  land  of  promise.  Dathe,  who 
states  that  he  follows  Doederlein  in  this,  translates  Hortus  conclusus  est, 
mea  soror  sponsa;  and  explains  /ior^ws,  locus  commorationis  duorum  aman- 
tium.  There  are  three  reasons,  each  of  them  strong,  and  together  quite 
conclusive,  against  inserting  is.  1.  In  the  space  of  these  eleven  verses 
'spouse'  occurs  six  times,  and  'sister '  five  times  (and  nowhere  else  through- 
out the  Song),  and  each  time  it  is  and  must  be  translated  as  addressing 
the  Bride,  O  sister,  spouse.  But  it  is  quite  contrary  to  the  rules  of  trans- 
lation, in  a  doubtful  case  to  depart  from  the  rendering  fixed  by  the  cases 
which  admit  of  no  doubt.  Diodati  and  Ainsworth,  who  refer  it  to  the 
Bride,  are  obviously  aware  of  this  difiiculty,  and  with  their  usual  accuracy 


504  NOTES.  CHAP.  V.  5,  6. 

preserve  the  form  of  an  address.  Diodati,  0  sposa,  sorella  mia,  tu  sei ;  Ains- 
w^orth  translates,  a  garden  locked,  my  sister,  my  spouse,  but  explains  that 
it  is  to  be  understood,  thou  art.  2.  The  Bride  is  frequently  distinguised 
from  the  garden,  and  nowhere  identified  with  i^see  p.  52).  3.  The  con- 
cluding scene  of  the  feast,  'Eat,  0  friends' — as  various  authors  have  no- 
ticed— renders  it  absolutely  impossible  that  the  Bride  herself  can  properly 
be  the  garden  enclosed  and  the  fountain  sealed,  because  the  Bridegroom's 
friends  arc  expressly  invited  by  him  to  eat  the  fruits  of  this  garden,  and 
to  drink  of  its  fountain. 

Chap.  v.  5. — My  hands  dropped  with  myrrh  upon,  the  handles  of  the 
lock. — Some  understand  this  of  the  ointment  from  the  hands  of  the  King 
while  knocking  at  the  door. 

The  fastened  lock  I  searched,  sweet-smelling  myrrh 

From  every  bolt  its  precious  moisture  shed, 

The  rich  perfume  my  lover's  hands  had  left. — Mrs.  RowE. 

But  although  critics  as  well  as  poets  have  adopted  this  view,  we  can  see 
no  ground  for  it. 

6.  3fy  soul  failed  when  he  spake — Sept.  iwxv  f^ov  k^rjWer  kv  7.6yu  avrov ; 
Vulg.,  auima  mea  liquefacta  est,  ut  locutus  est.  We  cannot  present  all 
the  minutely  varying  shades  of  meaning  that  have  been  attached  to  these 
words.     Let  these  four  suffice. 

(1.)  My  soul  failed  in  consequence  of  what  he  had  said,  is  perhaps 
the  most  common  interpretation — at  the  remembrance  of  his  words. — 
Good. 

(2.)  To  this  idea  Mrs.  Rowe  taking  a  i^oetic  liberty  adds  another 
link:— 

Tired  with  my  cold  delay.  Farewell  he  cries, 
These  killing  words  my  fainting  soul  surprise. 

(3.)  A  better  thought  is  suggested  by  Ker,  of  the  mind  failing  or  being 
in  a  state  of  stupor  while  the  Bridegroom  was  speaking,  which  is  a  very 
good  interpretation. 

Turn  fores,  ruptis  mora  nulla  claustris 
Obditis,  reddo  patulas  amico; 
Sed  viam  carpens  citus  advolarat 

Prsepete  penna. 

Verba  dum  fecit,  mihi  mens  stupebat: 
Qusesi,  nusquam  mihi  sedrepertus 
Ille,  responsum  mihi  noc  vocanti 

Reddidit  ullum. 

(4.)  But  we  have  no  doubt  that  the  true  meaning  of  the  passage  is  that 
the  heart  failed  till  the  king  should  speak.  So  Pagninus  '  dum  loqueretur 
ipse,'  and  Fry  'my  soul  failed  for  his  words.' 


CHAP.  y.  8-viii.  5.  NOTES.  505 

8.  lam  sick  of  love. — Mr.  Macaulay  in  his  History  quotes  in  a  satirical 
manner  Bishop  Patrick's  paraphrase  on  this  verse.  In  prosaic  paraphrase 
there  is  ever  a  temptation  to  weaken  by  excessive  dilution,  but  his  com- 
mentary on  this  book  is  most  excellent. 

9.  What  is  tliy  beloved.— SNho  is  thy  love  above  other  lovers?  or  what 
can  thy  love  do  more  than  other  lovers? — Coverdale. 

10.  My  beloved. — My  well-beloved,  Geneva  Bible. 

11.  His  locks  are  bushy. — Sept.  ^darpvxoi.  ahroii  kXarai ;  Vulg.  com se  ejus 
sicut  elatse  palmarum.  Wycliffe — his  hair  as  bunchis  of  palmys.  The 
idea  is  much  the  same  as  curled  or  bushy. 

14.  His  hands  are  as  gold  rings. — Diodati  is  the  only  translator  we  know 
who  has  rendered  exactly  Eev.  i.  20,  seven  stars  on  my  right  hand — sopra 
la  mia  destra.     See  also  Poll  Synopsis. 

Belly. — Coverdale,  body;  Bossuet — pectus  etiam  significat;  e  summa 
aut  exterior!  veste,  pectoris  candor  apj^aret  inter  lapillos  ipsi  vests  in- 
tectos.  We  have  no  doubt  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  passage,  and  not  the 
veins  through  the  ivory  skin.  Overlaid. — The  Hebrew  word  certainly 
means  elsewhere,  wrapped  over  as  with  a  garment. 

15.  The  three  lines  by  Watts  are  from  Williams'  Exposition. 

16.  This  is  my  Beloved,  and  Friend. — The  Geneva  Bible  brings  out 
rather  more  strongly  the  idea  which  the  words  contain,  of  one  both  be- 
loved and  lo.ving — This  is  my  well-beloved,  and  this  is  my  lover. 

Chap.  vi.  8.  •HiDSo  n^n  D'Up.  Ainsworth  translates,  Threescore  are 
they  queens;  Fry,  Threescore  are  they  the  queens;  Editor  of  Calmet, 
Sixty  are  those  queens,  and  eighty  those  concubines. 

10.  Who  is  she. — Dudley  Fenner,  Percy,  Good,  and  many  others,  in- 
terpret these  as  the  words  of  the  queens  saying,  'Who  is  she?' 

11.  The  great  body  of  interpreters  understand  these  words  of  the  Bride 
—Wycliffe,  Percy,  Good,  etc. 

Chap.  vii.  1.  Percy,  Good,  the  Editor  of  Calmet,  etc.,  interpret  these 
as  the  words  of  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  or  attendant  virgins.  Fry 
takes  the  whole  passage  of  these  daughters ;  but  most  introduce  the  King 
at  the  seventh  verse,  which  creates  complete  confusion  in  the  ninth — '  for 
my  well-beloved'— which  is  the  term  invariably  applied  to  the  Bride- 
groom ;  and  they  bring  forward  all  manner  of  fancies  to  get  rid  of  the 
difficulty.  Dr.  Lee  in  Heb.  Lex.  justly  remarks,  that  the  whole  can  only 
be  understood  by  allegory. 

2.  Navel — belly. — Sanctius  adduces  many  examples  from  various  lan- 
guages, of  the  parts  of  the  body  being  employed  to  represent  the  corres- 
ponding portions  of  the  dress. 

6.   Galleries. — Some  refer  it  to  the  ringlets,  but  not  so  well. 

Chap.  viii.  5.  I  raised  thee  ?y3—^'i?p!^U'-— Notwithstanding  the  Maso- 
retic  points,  Percy,  Good,  Editor  of  Calmet,  and  many  of  the  best  critics, 


,506  NOTES.  CHAP.  VIII.  10-13. 

interpret  these  words  of  the  Bridegroom;  and  the  whole  texture  of  the 
Song  requires  this  interpretation. 

10.  Favour —  Di Tiy  Peace.     Becoming  the  Shulamite,  so  Sanctius. 

13.  Thou  that  dwelled  in  the  gardens — D'fi.JS  HT^rn.  The  Sept.  makes 
this  masculine  6  Kad/j/isvo^  h  k^ittolq — but  is  nearly  if  not  quite  alone  in  this; 
Vulg.,  quse  habitas  in  hortis.  With  the  exception  of  the  Septuagint,  the 
Bibles,  English,  French,  Italian,  and  all  critics  and  commentators,  so  far 
as  we  know,  interpret  the  words  as  an  address  from  the  Bridegroom  to 
the  Bride.  An  excellent  little  work  recently  published  takes  it  as  an 
address  to  Christ,  and  quotes  Durham  as  holding  that  the  companions 
are  the  angels.  But  there  must  be  some  mistake  in  transcribing  the 
name,  because  Durham  takes  it  as  an  address  to  the  Bride,  and  renders 
it,  '  O  inhabitress  of  the  gardens,'  and  says  that  'by  companions  here  are 
understood  members  of  the  Church.'  Diodati  interprets  the  companions 
of  angels,  but  agrees  with  all  the  rest  in  receiving  it  as  an  address  to  the 
Bride. 


NOTICE  OF  AUTHORS  ON  THE 

SONG  OF  SOLOMON. 


Et  Ti  ToJg  TTaTpdciv  elpy/xevov  kv  Toiq  y/ueTspaig  evpoiev  ipfitfvslaig,  ectI  6e  to 

ToiovTOv  oil  Kkoiry,  aTJia  K?iJjpovofJ.ia  -Karpda. 

Theodord. 


Tolle  quod  hie  nostrum  est,  interpretis  erue  sentes; 
Caetera  sunt  violas,  lilia,  myrrha,  rosse, 

Arthur  Jonston. 


We  make  no  attempt  to  give  a  Catalogue  of  the  writers  on  the  Song 
of  Solomon — Eosenmuller's  consists  of  a  hundred  and  thirty-three — but 
merely  to  present  a  brief  notice  of  such  as  we  have  consulted  in  the  prep- 
aration of  this  volume.  When  we  have  referred  to  authorities  it  has 
generally  been  to  the  earlier  writers,  because  as  the  stream  widens  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  trace  the  sources  of  the  separate  rivulets  whose  waters 
mingle  in  the  common  current  of  interpretation.  We  have  therefore  made 
little  reference  to  many  authors  to  whom  we  have  been  much  indebted. 
At  the  same  time,  when  our  interpretation  has  been  different  from  that 
which  is  most  current,  and  we  have  afterwards  found  it  in  some  writer 
of  weight,  we  have  been  too  glad  to  add  the  authority;  although  the 
view  we  presented  had  been  derived  simply  from  the  Word  itself,  and 
had  sometimes  been  in  type  before  w^e  had  discovered  it  elsewhere. 

The  Targum  or  Chaldee  Paraphrase  on  the  Song  of  Songs — thought  to 
ho.ve  been  composed  in  the  sixth  century,  and  to  contain  the  opinions  of 
the  Jews  of  earlier  ages.  It  interprets  the  Song  as  a  pure  allegory,  rep- 
resenting the  dealings  of  God  with  Israel.  Amongst  much  that  wanders 
widely  from  the  purpose,  it  contains  also  materials  more  valuable  than 
the  reader  would  at  first  suppose.  Dr.  Gill  presented  a  translation  of  it 
in  the  first  Edition  of  his  Commentary  on  the  Song,  which  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  has  transferred  into  his  Commentarj'  on  the  Bible;  for  which  we 
should  owe  Dr.  C.  a  tribute  of  thanks,  had  he  not  placed  it  beside  his  own 
irreverent  and  injurious  remarks  on  this  Holy  Book. 


508  ANCIENT   AUTHOES. 

Origines  in  Canticum  Canticorum — two  homilies  translated  by  Jerome, 
and  four  books  translated  by  Eufinus,  but  neither  reaching  to  the  end  of 
the  second  chapter;  to  which  are  added  Procopiana  Excerpta  in  Greek, 
extending  to  the  end  of  the  Song — very  brief  and  fragmentary,  but  much 
more  condensed  than  the  preceding  Latin  translations.  The  allegoric 
interpretation  of  Origen,  which  is  so  faulty  when  applied  to  the  other 
Scriptures,  is  most  just  in  the  Song  of  Solomon ;  and  in  the  midst  of  much 
that  is  extremely  diffuse,  and  with  various  views  of  truth  that  are  obscure 
.  or  faulty,  these  expositions  contain  a  fullness  of  scriptural  illustration,  a 
genuine  warmth  of  love  to  Christ,  a  freshness  and  originality,  that  seem 
to  us  to  render  them  more  valuable  than  the  commentaries  on  this  book 
by  any  of  the  others  Fathers  to  which  we  have  had  access.  Many  of  the 
noblest  thoughts  in  those  that  follow  are  to  be  found  in  Origen,  although 
the  wide  range  of  disquisition  in  which  he  indulges  sometimes  serves  to 
bury  them. 

[Philo  Carpathius  in  Cant.  Cant. — is  not  in  the  more  common  collec- 
tions of  the  fathers,  and  we  have  not  seen  it.  It  occupies  a  jirominent 
i:)lace  in  all  the  catalogues  on  the  subject,  but  is  seldom  quoted.  Sanctius 
however  refers  to  it  frequently.] 

Oregorius  Nyssenus  in  Cant. — in  fifteen  homilies,  which  are  full  of 
earnest  practical  religion,  but  too  diffuse  as  expositions ;  almost  all  that  is 
expository  in  these  homilies  is  found  in  the  following. 

Tres  Patres — Expositio  Cant.  Cant,  collecta  ex  Sancti  Gregorii  Nyssae, 
Sancti  Noli,  et  Sancti  Maximi  Commentariis.  This  exposition,  com- 
monly entitled  Tres  Patres,  is  very  good,  and  being  condensed,  is  more 
serviceable  in  the  way  of  exposition  than  the  fuller  but  more  diffuse 
treatises. 

Theodoretus  Ctjri  Episcopus  in  Cant. — embraces  the  whole  book,  whijh 
is  not  the  case  with  many  of  the  other  Fathers.  It  is  a  judicious  and 
valuable  exposition,  and  is  made  great  use  of  by  Bishop  Patrick.  It  is 
said  to  have  been  written  with  the  view  of  counteracting  the  exposition 
of  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  the  only  one  of  the  ancient  Christian  writers 
w'hose  name  has  survived  by  whom  the  Song  of  Solomon  has  been  inter- 
preted literally.  He  is  stated  to  have  denied  the  allegorical  sense  alto- 
gether, and  to  have  expounded  the  book  as  referring  to  Solomon  and  an 
Ethiopian  princess.  Theodoret  however  does  not  name  him  or  any  other, 
but  only  refers  to  interpretations  of  that  class. 

Oregorius  Magnus  in  Cant.  With  less  vivacity  of  genius  than  some  of 
the  Greek  Fathers,  there  is  decidedly  a  clearer  enunciation  of  the  great 
doctrinal  principles  of  Christianity.  The  two  most  distinctive  features 
in  his  exposition  are,  a  great  expression  of  desire  for  the  conversion  of 
the  Jews  in  expounding  the  passage  '  I  have  brought  him  into  my  mother's 
house,'  which  he  interprets  of  ancient  Israel ;  and  the  introduction  of 
the  Virgin  Mary  into  the  song,  being  the  first  of  these  expositions  in 
which  we  have  observed  it ;  but  it  is  only  to  the  effect  that  '  the  crown 


ANCIENT   AUTHORS.  509 

wherewith  his  mother  crowned  him'  was  the  humanity  which  Christ  de- 
rived from  Mary — a  view  which  contains  no  doctrinal  error.  Ambrose 
had  previously  applied  this  text  in  the  same  manner,  and  had  also  re- 
ferred 'the  voice  of  the  turtle'  to  Mary;  but  our  remarks  are  confined 
to  works  expressly  written  on  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

Mkhael  Pselhis — Canticum  Canticorum  versibus  civilibus  explicatum 
— an  explanation  of  the  Song  in  Greek  verse,  written  in  a  freer  style  of 
criticism  than  the  earlier  expositions;  but  we  have  not  observed  in  it 
any  founding  of  the  Song  on  a  literal  basis.  The  Virgin  Mary  however 
is  brought  in  most  fully  and  zealously;  and  to  the  writer  nothing  can  be 
more  clear,  than  that  she  is  'the  dove  and  the  only  one'  in  contrast  to 
the  surrounding  multitude  of  queens  and  princesses.  In  the  history  of 
the  Song  it  is  much  more  easy  to  trace  the  entrance  and  progress  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,  than  of  Pharaoh's  daughter,  who  has  just  as  little  right  to 
occupy  a  place. 

Bemardus  Abbas  Clarcevalensis — has  eighty-six  sermons  on  the  first  two 
chapters,  which  contain  many  beautiful,  rich,  and  profitable  passages. 
In  an  article  on  the  Song  in  Kitto's  Cyclopajdia  of  Biblical  Literature, 
containing  much  valuable  information  on  the  subject,  tiie  writer  states 
'St.  Barnard  assigns  to  the  book  three  senses — a  historical,  a  moral,  and 
a  spiritual.  He  describes  it  as  an  agi'eeable  and  a  figurative  epithalami- 
um,  in  which  Solomon  sings  the  mysteries  of  an  eternal  marriage;  and 
among  the  moderns  Bossuet  observes  that  Solomon  adduces  as  an  ex- 
ample his  chaste  affection  toward  Pharaoh's  daughter.'  By  which  we 
conceive  the  writer  of  the  article  to  mean,  that  Bossuet's  idea  is  the  same 
as  Bernard's,  and  founded  on  it.  But  the  passage  which  Bossuet  quotes 
from  that  father,  as  presenting  the  whole  foundation  of  the  Song,  implies 
in  Bernard  nothing  more,  as  we  understand  it,  than  a  spiritual  marriage 
under  a  veil  of  outward  figure;  and  unless  we  have  quite  misunderstood 
him,  bis  historical  meaning  is  exactly  the  same  as  Origen's,  and  signifies 
merely  the  external  figure  of  the  spiritual  reality.  Origen's  words  after 
his  literal  expositions  are  these:  'hsec  continet  historicum  drama  ot  pro- 
positse  fabulse  species,  sed  redeamus  ad  ordinem  mysticam :'  and  he  never 
introduces  the  remotest  reference  to  the  outward  history  of  Solomon. 
Bernard's  view  appears  to  us  to  be  exactly  the  same  as  Origen's. 

There  may  have  been  oversight  on  our  part,  but  we  have  not  found  in 
any  of  these  ancient  authors  the  remotest  allusion  to  Pharaoh's  daughter, 
and  must  confess  ourselves  quite  bafiied  in  a  somewhat  laborious  attempt 
to  trace  her  introduction  into  the  Song  of  Solomon.  Coming  farther 
down,  there  is  no  trace  of  her  in  Wycliflfe's  Bible  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury ;  the  first  time  that  we  meet  with  her,  and  that  merely  in  passing, 
is  in  some  of  the  first  printed  Bibles  in  the  sixteenth  century;  but  from 
what  source  derived  we  have  not  had  opportunity  to  ascertain. 


610  MODERN   AUTHORS. 


MODERN  AUTHORS. 

English  Bibles. —  Wycliffe,  John,  and  his  Followers. — The  Holy  Bible. 
Oxford,  1850.— This  contains  two  translations  of  the  Bible  in  the  four- 
teenth century.  In  the  first  the  Song  of  Solomon  is  the  same,  so  far  as 
we  have  compared  it,  with  one  previously  printed  by  Dr.  Adam  Clarke 
from  an  old  manuscript;  it  is  interlined  throughout  with  the  names  of 
the  speakers  in  the  dialogue ;  it  interprets  the  allegory  of  Christ  and  the 
Church;  and  the  interpretation  is  in  substance  the  same  as  that  of  all 
the  early  printed  Bibles.  The  second  and  later  of  the  translations  pub- 
lished in  this  volume  does  not  in  itself  differ  widely  from  the  first;  but 
the  notes  are  entirely  diflerent  from  those  of  all  the  other  Bibles,  and 
contain  a  most  interesting  illustration  of  the  Song  by  the  history  of  Israel 
down  to  the  commencement  of  the  seventh  chapter,  after  which  it  is 
interpreted  of  the  Christian  Church. 

Coverdale,  Myles. — The  Holy  Scriptures,  1535. — This  is  a  reprint  of 
the  oldest  of  the  printed  English  Bibles  contaming  the  entire  Scriptures; 
it  is  not  acompanied  by  notes. 

Thomas,  Matthew. — The  Byble  in  Englyshe  (or  Tyudale's  according  to 
Anderson),  1637 — a  noble  volume  in  black  letter,  with  the  interpreting 
explanations  in  red  through  the  whole  of  the  Song,  see  p.  8.  Rijcharde 
Taverner. — The  most  Sacred  Byble.  London,  1537.  The  same  as  the 
preceding,  so  far  as  we  have  compared  them.  Rychard  Ch'aJ'ton  and 
Edward  Whitchurch,  1689.— The  Byble  in  Englyshe.  This  is  the  '  Great 
Bible,'  commonly  called  Cranmer's.  The  Bishop's  Bible. — The  Holie 
Bible;  London,  1568. 

These  four  Bibles  are  in  the  Library  of  the  British  Museum ;  the 
notes — or  interlined  headings,  not  of  chapters  but  of  verses  and  clauses — 
though  the  same  in  the  general  views  presented,  sometimes  vary  consid- 
erably in  the  particular  passages;  and  both  these,  and  the  various  turns 
given  to  the  translation,  are  most  useful  and  extremely  interesting  in 
the  study  of  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

Barker,  Robert  (or  Geneva  Bible). — The  Bible  imprinted  at  London, 
1603. — This  is  the  date  of  the  one  before  us,  but  it  is  one  of  the  latest 
editions.  It  has  excellent  notes  on  the  Song,  as  throughout  the  volume ; 
the  translation  is  nearer  the  authorized  version  than  those  preceding,  yet 
still  with  considerable  variety. 

Wilcocks,  Mr.  Thomas. — Exposition  upon  the  Booke  of  the  Canticles. 
London,  1624. — Is  one  of  those  treatises  which  would  be  highly  j^rized 
had  it  not  been  succeeded  before  any  great  lapse  of  time  by  others  that 
are  superior. 

Sanctius,  Ga.tpar,  in  Soc.  lesu  Theol.,  1616. — This  is  a  quarto  volume 
of  nearly  400  pages  of  great  learning  and  research,  full  of  valuable  and 


MODERN    AUTHORS.  511 

interesting  matter,  throwing  much  light  upon  the  book.  The  sentiments 
are  modest  and  reverent,  and  for  the  most  part  just,  his  view  of  the  Song 
being  entirely  spiritual.  There  is  little  introduction  of  the  peculiarities 
of  Popery.  It  is  one  of  the  most  learned,  complete,  and  in  many  respects 
most  serviceable  commentaries  on  the  book. 

Mcrcerus,  Joannes,  1651. — Brief  when  compared  with  Sanctius,  but 
valuable,  and  contains  a  full  discussion  of  the  original  words,  with  con- 
stant reference  to  the  Hebrew  Doctors. 

Diodati,  Giovanni. — La  Sacra  Biblia,  1641. — His  notes  on  the  Song  of 
Solomon  are  much  more  extended  than  on  the  rest  of  the  Bible,  and  form 
a  regular  commentary.  They  are  thoroughly  admirable,  clear  in  expo- 
sition, rich  in  doctrine,  beautiful  in  expression. 

Ainsworth,  Henry,  1639. — Solomon's  Song  of  Songs  in  English  Metre, 
with  Annotations. — We  place  this  exposition  beside  EKodati's,  because 
we  always  class  them  together  as  amongst  the  most  valuable  commen- 
taries on  the  Song  of  Songs.  They  are  both  brief  when  compared  with 
other  expositions,  they  both  express  at  once  clearly  what  they  mean,  they 
seldom  disappoint  and  never  weary  the  reader.  Yet  are  they  very  dif- 
ferent— Ainsworth,  who  is  thoroughly  spiritual,  excels  in  giving  light  on 
the  critical  meaning  of  the  words — Diodati,  who  is  a  thorough  critic,  ex- 
cels in  bringing  out  clearly  (heir  spiritual  power  and  beauty.  We  have 
not  classed  Ainsworth  amongst  the  metrical  expositors,  because  his  met- 
rical version  of  the  Song,  which  is  of  little  value,  occupies  little  space 
or  prominence,  except  in  the  Title  of  the  Book.  It  is  in  these  respect 
entirely  dlfTerent  from  the  verses  of  Fleming,  into  which  the  whole 
thoughts  of  the  writer  on  the  passage  are  often  thrown. 

Robotham,  John. — Exposition  on  the  whole  book  of  Solomon's  Song — 
sold  at  the  Golden  Ball  in  Aldersgate  Street,  1652.  Not  equal  to  Dur- 
ham's as  a  practical  commentary,  but  contains  much  valuable  matter. 

Guild,  William,  D.  D. — Love's  Entercours  between  the  Lamb  and  his 
Bride,  Christ  and  his  Church;  or  a  clear  explication  and  application  of 
the  Song  of  Solomon.  London,  for  Ralph  Smith,  at  his  shop  at  the  Bible 
in  Cornhill,  1658.  Practical  and  experimental;  we  cannot  say  that  we 
have  found  it  throw  any  remarkable  light  on  the  book  not  to  be  obtained 
elsewhere. 

Durham^  Clavis  Cantica — published  after  his  death,  with  a  recom- 
mendation by  Dr.  Owen  dated  1669 — is  too  well  known  and  too  highly 
prized  to  need  any  notice  from  us.  It  does  not  contain  the  superabundant 
materials  of  Gill,  but  is  much  more  distinct  in  giving  the  expositor's  own 
interpretation,  and  is  extremely  rich  as  a  practical  and  experimental 
treatise. 

De  Veil,  Caroli  Marice. — Explicatio  Literalis  Cant.  Cant.  London, 
1679. — A  small  volume  with  a  good  deal  of  interesting  matter. 

Collinges,  John,D.D. — The  intercourse  of  Divine  Love  betwixt  Christ 
and  his  Church,  or  the  particular  believing  soul  metaphorically  expressed 


512  MODERN    AUTHORS. 

by  Solomon  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  Canticles.  London,  1G83. — Full  of 
learning  and  of  materials  gathered  from  many  sources,  with  less  expres- 
sion of  his  own  opinion  upon  the  congregated  mass.  But  909  quarto 
pages  are  too  much  on  one  chapter  of  any  book. 

Cantica,  Canticorum,  Chymice  Explicata — is  the  title  of  a  book  in  the 
Library  of  the  British  Museum,  but  the  book  itself  in  the  lapse  of  years 
has  gone  astray  ;  and  we  can  form  no  conjecture  of  its  contents  except 
from  the  words  of  Carpzovius,  that  'the  Alchymists  dream  that  under  the 
the  shadow  of  his  words  Solomon  has  delineated  (in  the  Song)  the  whole 
secret  concerning  the  Philosophers'  Stone.' 

Sijmon,  Patrlch,  Bishop  of  Ely,  1694. — His  commentary  on  the  Song  is 
of  great  value,  notwithstanding  Mr.  Macaulay's  satirical  reference  and 
quotation.  In  brief  space  he  throws  much  light  upon  it  both  from 
his  own  judicious  thoughts,  and  from  the  Christian  Fathers  and  Hebrew 
Doctors. 

Bossuet,  Jacques- Benigne,  Eveque  de  Meaux,  1690. — This  treatise  has 
given  rise  to  more  imitations  and  more  discussions,  than  any  other 
work  on  the  Song  of  Solomon  in  modern  times.  The  criticism  one  is 
disposed  to  pass  upon  it,  is  much  affected  by  the  light  from  which  it  is 
viewed.  If  we  rise  from  reading  the  insipid  and  noxious  puerilities  of 
the  literal  interpreters,  we  are  refreshed  by  the  beauty  of  thought,  the 
elegance  of  expression,  the  loftiness  of  sentiment,  in  Bossuet  himself;  and 
by  the  important  and  edifying  passages  he  cites  from  the  Fathers.  There 
is  extremely  little  introduced  that  is  of  a  Popish  character;  and  the  re- 
ference to  the  Virgin  Mary  is  confined  to  a  single  paragraph  at  the  end 
of  the  commentary,  showing  how  the  Fathers  applied  some  of  the  pas- 
sages to  her.  But  they  are  only  such  as  those  we  have  referred  to  in 
Ambrose  and  Gregory ;  and  the  general  current  of  the  allegorical  expo- 
sition is  excellent. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  celebrated  work  has  wrought  much  mischief 
in  the  Church  ;  and  affords  one  of  many  proofs  that  genius  and  learning 
will  only  lead  ourselves  and  others  astray  in  interpreting  the  Word  of 
God,  without  humility,  spirituality,  and  scriptural  soundness  of  mind.  The 
daughter  of  Pharaoh  whom  he  has  so  magnified  has  become  a  stumbling- 
block  and  a  snare.  Lightfoot,  before  Bossuet,  expresses  indeed  the  same 
view  and  very  decidedly,  but  he  does  not  write  a  book  upon  it;  and 
Carpzovius  maintains  that  Bossuet  has  merely  served  up  again  the  offen- 
sive speculations  of  Grotius  [idem  rccoctuni),  of  whom  he  allows  that  he 
would  have  been  one  of  the  greatest  of  men  [vir  summus)  if  he  had  let 
the  Divine  oracles  alone.  In  this  light  all  the  talent  and  learning  of 
Bossuet  have  only  served  with  many  to  bring  down  among  the  things  of 
earth  the  high  and  holy  mysteries  of  the  Word  of  God,  by  giving  the 
lustre  of  his  genius  and  his  name  to  an  interpretation  of  this  book  which 
is  entirely  groundless,  most  injurious  to  scriptural  truth,  and  sadly  sub- 
versive of  spiritual  edification. 


MODERN   AUTHOES.  513 

It  is  rather  curious  that  when  Bossuet's  divisiou  into  seven  days  is  so 
famous  and  so  often  referred  to,  it  should  never  be  quoted  correctly — at 
least  in  any  instance  that  has  come  under  our  notice.  In  Commentaries, 
Biblical  Introductions,  and  CycloiJiedias,  his  sixth  day,  which  commences 
at  chap.  vii.  11,  is  always  quoted  chap.  vii.  12 — which  a  reference  to  our 
English  Bible  would  have  shown  to  be  without  meaning.  His  fifth  day 
commences  at  chap.  vi.  10  in  our  Bibles,  which  in  Bossuet's  is  chap, 
vi.  9 ;  and  one  of  the  first  transcribers  seems  to  have  concluded  without 
examining,  that  on  the  same  principle  he  must  take  a  verse  in  advance 
on  the  sixth  day  likewise,  and  to  have  been  followed  by  all  the  rest. 

Calmet,  Aiigustin,  1726. — Commentaire  litteral  sur  le  Cantique  des 
Cantiques. — His  views  are  substantially  the  same  as  Bossuet's,  dividing 
the  Song  into  seven  or  eight  days.  His  plan  leads  him  to  enlarge  more 
on  external  description,  but  he  equally  maintains  and  illustrates  the 
spiritual  sense.  He  is  remarkably  candid — as  an  instance  of  which  we 
may  note  that  he  more  than  once  refers  to  our  Scottish  Expositor  Dur- 
ham. He  says  of  Grotius — and  no  doubt  justly — that  he  has  taken  liber- 
ties with  this  book  Avhich  horrify  [font  horreur)  all  who  have  a  respect 
for  the  Scriptures,  and  is  severe  on  Theodore  Beza  for  translating  it  into 
Latin  verse  the  cast  of  which  he  holds  to  be  irreverent. 

MarcHus,  Joannes,  Amsterdam,  1703. — A  commentary  of  nearly  a  thou- 
sand quarto  pages — his  own  remarks  are  often  excellent,  but  the  volume 
is  rendered  bulky  by  long  quotations  which  he  often  rejects  as  not  to  the 
purpose.  It  is  not  equal  to  Sanctius  in  elucidation  of  the  text,  nor  some- 
times in  elevation  of  tone  in  the  interpretation. 

Gill,  John,  D.D.,  1724. — This  exposition  of  the  Song  of  Solomon  is  a 
vast  treasure  of  varied  learning,  sound  doctrine,  and  spiritual  experience; 
but  it  is  neither  sufficiently  condensed,  nor  is  it  so  digested  by  the  author 
as  to  present  to  the  reader  a  clear  idea  of  his  own  interpretation. 

Lowth,  Bishop. — His  Prelections  we  notice  for  the  sake  of  the  notes  of 
Michaelis  on  the  Song  of  Solomon,  appended  to  the  twenty-first  Lecture. 
Michaelis  upholding  the  inspiration  of  the  book,  maintains  its  purely 
literal  meaning,  does  not  agree  with  those  who  regard  it  as  Solomon's 
marriage  with  Pharaoh's  daughter,  asserts  that  he  can  find  no  marriage 
ceremony  in  it  throughout,  and  holds  it  to  be  the  expression  of  the  chaste 
aflfections  of  married  persons.  But  in  order  to  account  for  the  absence, 
the  longing,  and  the  various  incidents  that  occur,  he  is  obliged  to  have 
recourse  to  the  complicated  relations  that  arise  out  of  polygamy — surely 
no  likely  subject  for  sacred  song. 

Percy,  Bishop. — Song  of  Solomon  newly  translated.  London.  1764. 
(Published  without  the  author's  name.)  We  have  nothing  to  add  to  our 
previous  remarks  on  this  author  (p.  25),  except  to  state  that  they  refer 
exclusively  to  his  work  on  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

The  Song  of  Solomon  Paraphrased,  with  remarks  on  the  late  New 
Translation.     Edinburgh,  1775.     This  is  partly  in  refutation  or  rather 


514  MODERN    AUTHORS. 

correction  of  Bishop  Percy's,  for  it  adopts  not  a  few  of  his  general  ideas, 
while  it  justly  censures  his  tone  and  many  of  his  remarks. 

Harmer. — Outlines  of  a  New  Commentary  on  Solomon's  Song,  1768. — 
This  is  one  of  the  most  ingenious,  modest,  and  interesting  of  all  the  trea- 
tises on  the  outward  sense  of  the  Song — for  while  the  author  not  merely 
allows  but  advocates  the  allegorical  meaning,  he  scarcely  enters  on  it.  His 
theory  on  which  he  strenuously  maintains  that  the  whole  structure  of  the 
Book  rests,  is  extremely  wild,  viz.,  the  introduction  of  Pharaoh's  daughter 
into  Jerusalem,  with  the  rivalry  of  Solomon's  former  Jewish  Queen,  whom 
he  introduces  largely  into  the  Song  to  account  for  its  scenes  and  incidents. 
The  darkness  of  complexion  in  Pharaoh's  daughter,  he  accounts  for  by 
her  journey  through  the  desert  from  Egypt  at  an  unseasonable  time  of 
the  year. 

Hodgson,  Bernard,  D.D.,  Oxford,  1786. — A  good  translation,  and  ac- 
companied with  critical  notes  on  the  Hebrew,  and  with  quotations  from 
the  classics.  The  mystical  sense  of  the  Song  is  never  referred  to — not 
denied,  still  less  acknowledged.  A  curious  instance  of  the  minute  im- 
provements which  learned  divines  would  sometimes  make  on  the  autho- 
rized translation,  occurs  in  chap.  vi.  9  '  my  dove  is  but  one,'  which  Dr. 
H.  renders  'she  alone  is  my  jjidgeon ' — an  emendation  which,  if  our  older 
dictionaries  are  correct,  errs  in  grammar  as  well  as  in  orthography  and 
taste,  for  they  define  dove  to  be  'a  female  pigeon'  (Bailey). 

Dathius,  Joannes  Augustus,  1789. — Strongly  repudiates  every  sense  but 
the  literal ;  his  critical  notes  are  brief,  but  frequently  useful. 

Williams,  T.,  1801. — Not  characterized  by  any  remarkable  features,  but 
a  useful  work,  in  which  the  spiritual  sense  is  both  acknowledged  and 
brought  out. 

Good,  Dr.  John  Mason. — Song  of  Songs  or  Sacred  Idyls,  1803. — A  work 
of  great  beauty,  in  which  the  author  allows  and  defends  the  allegorical, 
but  confines  himself  to  the  literal  sense.  He  'regards  the  entire  Song  as 
a  collection  of  distinct  idyls  ujion  one  common  subject,  and  that  the  loves 
of  the  Hebrew  monarch  and  his  fair  bride.*  There  is  no  light  throv.n  on 
what  is  higher  and  spiritual,  except  by  adducing  mystical  poems  of  other 
nations; — his  translation  in  prose  is  excellent,  departing  very  slightly  from 
that  of  our  Bible;  but  his  poetic  translation,  like  all  others  on  a  purely 
literal  basis,  loses  in  our  judgment  every  spiritual  idea  or  possibility  of 
its  application.  In  a  critical  point  of  view  succeeding  commentators  are 
much  indebted  to  him;  but  had  the  interesting  author  written  his  work 
on  the  Song  at  a  later  period  of  his  life,  after  his  religious  views  under- 
went a  great  change,  it  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  a  much  more  valuable 
gift  to  the  Church  of  Christ.  Dr.  Good  refers  frequently  to  '  the  beauti- 
ful Italian  version  of  Melesegenio,'  which  is  often  mentioned  by  subse- 
quent expositors ;  it  is  however  in  none  of  the  libraries  to  which  we  have 
had  access;  and  although  we  had  hoped  to  see  it  through  the  kindness  of 
Dr.  Good's  family,  his  copy  could  not  be  discovered  amongst  his  books- 


MODERN    AUTHORS.  515 

Dr.  G.  while  not  dividing  the  Song  into  days,  maintains  'the  unity  and 
mutual  dependence  of  the  whole  fasciculus  of  idyl-s  of  which  the  Song  of 
Songs  consists,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  Signior  Melesegenio.' 

Davidson,  William,  Esq.,  1817. — When  we  found  this  excellent  author 
interpi'eting  the  Song  of  Solomon  of  the  Christian  Church  from  the  time 
of  John  the  Baptist,  we  apprehended  that  in  our  historical  sketch  we  had 
been  ploughing  a  field  that  was  already  reaped ;  but  his  view  is  entirely 
different,  for  he  places  the  death  of  Christ  in  the  first  chapter.  It  is  the 
work  of  a  most  painstaking  author,  full  of  reverence  for  the  Word  of 
God,  and  with  a  heart  entering  deeply  into  his  sacred  subject. 

Fry,  Rev.  John. — Canticles.  Second  Edition,  1825. — This  volume  has 
had  a  wholesome  influence  in  redirecting  Christian  attention  to  a  neglected 
portion  of  Scripture.  Its  arrangement  is  founded  on  that  of  Good,  but 
goes  further  regarding  the  entire  distinctness  and  independence  of  the 
various  Songs  or  Idyls — a  theory  which  forms  the  foundation  of  Mr.  Fry's 
Exposition.  Although  this  basis  is  quite  untenable  the  work  itself  is  ex- 
cellent, the  tone  pure  and  elevated,  the  simply  parabolic  or  allegorical 
character  of  the  Song  maintained  throughout.  What  we  chiefly  desider- 
ate is  the  spiritual  interpretation  of  such  descriptions  as  that  of  the  Be- 
loved as  the  Chief  among  ten  thousand;  which  are  regarded  as  either 
having  never  been  designed  to  convey  special  instruction  in  their  particu- 
lar features,  or  having  left  us  without  any  key  to  their  interpretation; 
while  we  would  receive  those  descriptions  as  forming  the  most  important 
and  instructive  parts  of  the  Song  of  Solomon. 

Rosenmulkri  Scholia  in  Salomonis  Canticum,  1830. — He  has  a  most 
candid  and  most  conclusive  disquisition  on  the  nature  of  the  book,  prov- 
ing that  it  is  one  Song  throughout,  that  it  cannot  be  understood  literally, 
and  must  be  a  pure  allegory.  In  his  subsequent  notes,  indeed,  he  confines 
himself  to  the  explanation  of  the  outward  sense,  but  he  states  his  own 
opinion  to  be,  that  it  is  a  mystical  communion  between  Solomon  and 
Wisdom,  which  would  be  the  exact  truth  if  he  acknowledged  wisdom  to 
be  the  Eternal  Word  of  God. 

Taylor,  C/ior/es. ^Fragments  of  Culniet,  18o8. — His  translation  and  ar- 
rangement of  the  Song  of  Songs— relating  merely  to  its  outward  structure 
as  Solomon's  marriage  festival — evince  great  research,  abundant  ingenuity, 
the  utmost  delicacy  and  refinement  of  feeling,  along  with  a  most  exuber- 
ant and  credulous  fancy  in  filling  up  an  external  scenery  and  narrative. 

Meditations  on  tiie  ISony  of  iSolomon,  London,  1848. — This  little  treatise 
is  the  production  of  a  mind  highly  appreciating  and  enjoying  the  spiritual 
character  of  the  Song  of  Songs,  as  well  as  having  thoroughly  studied 
the  book.  We  were  not  a  little  gratified  to  find  that  the  author  divides 
it  regularly  into  five  parts  exactly  as  we  have  done,  without  the  slightest 
difference;  but  he  does  not  enter  into  his  reasons  for  these  divisions. 

The  Song  of  Solomon  compared  with  other  parts  of  Scripture,  1852. — A 
volume  full  of  Christian  simplicity,  unction,  and  fervour;  the  reception 
G  7 


516  METRICAL    AUTFTOKS. 

of  which  by  ihe  Christian  public,  denmnding  aheady  a  iourth  edition, 
proves  that  where  the  Spirit  ol'  God  rests  upoft  the  lieart  and  mind  and 
breathes  through  them,  as  in  the  case  of  Miss  Newton,  the  testimony  of 
that  Spirit  is  not  without  a  response. 

Macphers<on,  Pefer,  A.M.,  Edinburgh,  185G. — The  song  of  Songs  shown 
to  be  constructed  on  architectural  principles.  We  trust  that  the  in- 
genious author's  reverence  for  the  Word  of  God,  and  literary  acquire- 
ments, will  yet  be  of  good  service  in  the  exposition  of  Scripture.  But  his 
supposition,  that  this  Song  consists  of  verses  written  round  an  archway, 
is  so  entirely  gratuitous,  that  it  is  only  misguiding  and  deceptive.  Were 
he  to  take  the  human  ligure  instead — were  he  to  write  the  lines  on  the 
shoes,  the  skirts  of  the  garments,  the  girdle,  the  arms,  the  shoulders,  and 
the  head — he  would  have  the  same  passage  of  misapplied  Scripture  to 
proceed  upon,  and  might  form  a  fancy  sketch  much  more  complete. 

Kifto,  John,  D.  D.,  in  his  Pictorial  Bible,  presents  much  useful  infor- 
mation on  the  Song  of  Solomon.  In  his  introduction  he  proves  that  the 
Persians  (whose  example  had  long  ago  been  adduced)  and  the  modern 
Egyptians  employ  language  not  unlike  the  Song  of  Solomon  for  religious 
purposes.  This  is  a  species  of  evidence  to  which  we  confess  we  were  dis- 
posed to  attach  little  value,  but  on  further  consideration  we  find  it  not 
unscriptural.  '  Hath  a  nation  changed  their  gods  which  are.no  gods?  yet 
my  people  have  forgotten  me;' — have  the  nations  composed  mystical 
songs  to  their  gods  which  are  no  gods;  and  will  God's  own  people  cast 
away  their  spiritual  Song,  the  v/ork  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  if  it  were  the 
mere  utterance  of  earthly  affections?  Dr.  K.  adds  'It  seems  to  us  that 
Dr.  Pye  Smith's  objection  would  have  ceased  could  he  have  seen  the 
allegorical  interpretation  to  be  so  natural,  as  we  cannot  but  think  that 
it  now  appears.'  A  little  more  knowledge,  then,  would,  have  set  Dr. 
Smith  right;  and  in  its  absence  a  little  mi,re  humility  would  have  served 
the  same  end  still  more  effectually. 

Burrowes,  Rev.  George,  Philadelphia,  1853. — The  excellent  work  of 
Dr.  Burrowes  is  specially  fitted  to  remove  the  prejudices  of  men  of  taste 
against  the  Song  of  Solomon,  as  the  medium  of  spiritual  communion  be- 
tween the  soul  and  Christ.  We  welcome  it  as  a  valuable  contribution  to 
us  from  our  Transatlantic  brethren,  and  we  rejoice  in  its  reception  in 
America  being  such  as  to  have  called  forth  already  another  edition. 

MKTKICAL    AUTHORS. 

Fenncr,  Dudley. — The  Song  of  Songs  translated  out  of  the  Hebrew  into 
Englishe  meeter,  with  as  little  libertie  in  departing  from  the  words  as 
any  plain  translation  in  prose  can  use;  and  interpreted  by  a  short  com- 
mentarie.  Middleburgh:  Richard  Schilders,  Printer  to  the  States  of 
Zealande,  1587.  This  is  a  faithful  and  an  excellent  translation,  accom- 
panied by  an  admirable  exposition.     British  Museum. 

The  Loves  of  the  Lord  with  hiK  Troth-plight  Spouse:  Contained  in  the 


METRICAL    AUTHORS.  517 

Bong  of  Songs,  paraphrjised  with  soliloquies  and  petitions  upon  every  di- 
vision. The  anonymous  author  of  this  rare  work  is  obviously  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  original;  the  Paraphrase  is  much  superior  to  most 
metrical  paraphrases  that  have  followed  it;  along  with  spiritual  appre- 
hension there  is  often  true  poetic  beauty,  with  liveliness  and  variety  of 
verse.  The  copy  in  the  Edinburgh  College  Library  appears  to  be  the 
only  one  in  our  public  libraries;  for  it  is  not  mentioned  in  the  Arch- 
deacon of  Cashel's  valuable  Catalogue  of  English  Bibles  and  works  on 
the  Bible  and  parts  thereof. 

Jonston,  Arthur  (Physician  to  Charles  I.) — Cant.  Sol.  Paraphrasis 
Poetica — has  been  extolled  for  its  beautiful  Latin. 

Ker,  Joannes  (  Professor  of  Greek  in  Aberdeen),  Paraphrasis  Gemina. 
Edin.,  1727.— Though  a  century  later  we  have  placed  this  Paraphrase  be- 
side Jonston's,  as  being  of  the  same  character.  It  is  written  in  equally 
elegant  Latin,  and  appears  to  us  more  fully  to  attain  the  spirit  of  the 
original,  which  is  extremely  difficult  in  such  compositions.  His  notes 
are  admirable,  and  clearly  bring  out  the  author's  view  of  the  spiritual 
character  of  the  Song. 

Woodford,  Samuel,  D.  D. — Paraphrase  on  the  Canticles  in  Englisli 
Rythms,  printed  for  John,  Baker  at  the  Three  Pidgeons  and  Henry 
Brome  at  the  Gun  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  1679. — This  Paraphrase  is 
copious  and  rather  diffuse;  it  includes  both  the  outward  scene  and  the 
spiritual  meaning;  is  a  superior  composition  to  many  others  of  the  para- 
phrases, but  as  a  whole  is  not  very  remarkable  either  for  spiritual  fullness 
or  poetical  beauties. 

Lloyd,  John,  A.M.  (Vicar  of  Holy  Roode.) — Song  of  Solomon  in  a 
Pindaric  Poem.  London,  1682. — He  criticizes  Fenner  and  Aiusworth 
as  fit  only  for  the  days  of  the  Ballet  of  Ballets,  but  we  cannot  say  that 
we  think  his  own  efibrt  successful,  though  he  has  paid  sufficient  attention 
to  the  smoothness  of  his  verses.  We  were  about  to  copy  four  tolerable 
lines  when  the  Library  of  the  British  Museum  closed  for  the  day. 

Barton,  WilUavi,  M.A.,  late  Minister  of  St.  Martin's  in  Leicester. — 
The  Canticles  Paraphrased.  Fourth  Edition.  London,  1688.  (Printed 
in  his  'Six  Centuries  of  Hymns  and  Spiritual  Songs.')  As  we  have 
quoted  the  other  poetical  paraphrases  in  some  part  of  our  exposition,  we 
subjoin  four  lines  .-^ — 

The  watch  and  those  who  walk  the  round, 

That  me  in  this  affliction  found. 

Smote,  wounded,  and  profanely  tore 

The  sable  veil  my  sorrow  wore. — Chap.  t.  7. 

Fleming,  Robert,  Jan.,  V.D.M. — The  Mirror  of  Divine  Love  unveiled 
in  a  Poetical  Paraphrase  of  the  high  and  mysterious  Song  of  Solomon, 
printed  for  John  Salusbury  at  the  Rising  Sun  in  Cornhill,  1691.— The 
Bride  is  interpreted  only  of  the  individual  soul,  and  that  one  of  dis- 


518  METRICAL    AUTHORS, 

tinguished  grace.  The  notes  are  excellent;  and  t'roni  our  high  respect 
for  the  writer  (author  of  the  celebrated  treatise  on  the  Rise  and  Fall  of 
Papacy),  we  have  read  the  paraphrase  more  tlian  once  with  the  view  of 
presenting  an  extract,  but  have  found  no  lines  that  do  justice  to  the 
author.  The  Song  is  first  turned  into  Pindaric  verses,  and  then  the 
whole  book  presented  again  in  a  common  metre  for  singing,  and  in  a 
leas  enlarged  Paraphrase.  This  last  metrical  Paraphrase  was  the  work 
of  a  single  day ! 

Mason. — Song  of  Songs,  First  turned,  then  Paraphrased  in  English 
Verse.  Twelfth  Edition.  London,  1725. — The  most  remarkable  feature 
in  this  Paraphrase  appeared  to  us  to  consist  in  the  number  of  editions  it 
had  gone  through,  from  which,  however,  we  apprehend  that  we  must 
undoubtedly  have  overlooked  some  of  its  excellencies. 

Roive,  Mrs.  Elizabeth. — Paraphrase  on  the  Canticles.  1739. — -The  breath- 
ings of  a  poetic  temperament  combined  with  spiritual  affections,  but  loo 
ardent  for  our  taste. 

ErsHne,  Rev.  Ralph. — Poetical  Paraphrase.  Second  Edition.  London, 
1742. — Full  of  the  marrow  of  the  Gospel,  with  abundance  of  uncouth 
lines  and  many  verses  in  succession  without  any  special  excellence,  but 
ever  intermingled  with  most  noble  and  divine  passages. 

Francis,  Ann. — Poetical  Translation,  1781. — Flowing  verses,  with  no 
excess  of  thought;  chiefly  profitable  as  showing  how  impossible  it  is 
even  for  a  pious  and  cultivated  mind,  like  that  of  Mrs.  Francis,  to  make 
a  merely  literal  version  or  parai^hrase  the  medium  of  spiritual  com- 
munion. She  frames  her  translation  on  Harmer's  most  fenciful  hypo- 
thesis of  an  Egyptian  and  a  Hebrew  Queen,  is  said  to  have  been  assisted 
in  her  work  by  Parkhurst,  and  holds  the  allegorical  and  spiritual  meaning 
as  the  great  design  of  the  Song. 

Graduate  of  Oxford,  Late. — Metrical  Version  of  the  Song  of  Solomon. 
London,  1845. — The  fruit  of  a  thoughtful,  cultivated,  and  poetic  mind, 
and  containing  some  beautiful  passages.  It  brings  out  the  literal  beauties 
of  the  Song,  but  does  not  exclude  the  spiritual  sense — though  introducing 
it  too  sparingly,  or  rather  perhaps  too  seldom. 

Metrical  Meditations  oil  the  Canticles.  Second  Edition.  1856. — A  work 
o/ deep  thought,  patient  labour,  spiritual  discernment,  and  poetic  taste. 


Evn^iiiJ.,  .       Paraphrase    ,        -tJbi. 


METRICAL   VERSION 


OF 


THE  SONa  OF  SOLOMOiSr. 


BY 


WILLIAM  SKINNER  RENTOUL, 


(  WrUien/o:   the  American  edition  of  Eev.  Moochj  Stuart's  Exposition  of 
that  beautiful  inspired  Song.) 


WMi.S:    RENTOUL,  PHILADELTHIi 
1869. 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 

The  author  of  this  metrical  version  has  aimed  at  presenting  a  literal 
translation  of  the  song,  so  far  as  practicable  consistently  with  the 
freedom  necessary  to  metrical  compositions. 

In  the  occasional ///ingr  up,  or  paraphrastic  expressions,  he  has  assidu- 
ously studied  to  j^resent  the  sense  and  interpretation  conveyed  in  the 
admirable  Exposition  to  which  this  version  is  appended.  How  far  he 
has  succeeded  in  these  aims  it  is  for  the  candid  reader  to  form  his  own 
judgment.  He  trusts  that  this  effort  to  present  to  the  American  reader 
a  pleasing  and  agreeable  modern  Metrical  version  of  this  the  chief  of  the 
inspired  songs  contained  in  God's  Word — and  hence  most  fittingly  titled 
'The  Song  of  Songs' — will,  at  least,  be  favourably  received  by  all  who 
love  that  Word ;  and  that  it  may  contribute  in  some  degree  to  endear 
this  charming  spiritual  song  more  to  God's  dear  people. 

In  the  division  of  The  Song  inio  Jive  Canticles,  and  in  the  opening  and 
closing  of  each  of  these,  he  has  followed  Eev.  Moody  Stuart,  sustained 
as  he  is  by  the  general  consent  of  expositors ;  as  will  be  observed  by 
reference  to  the  table  forming  page  28  of  this  edition.  He  has  further 
distinguished  the  five  canticles,  by  clothing  each  in  a  varied  metrical 
vestment;  thus  relieving  the  composition  from  the  monotony  incident  to 
a  uniform  structure  of  verse.  The  captions  of  the  subdivisions  are  the 
same  as  in  the  Exposition. —  W.S.E. 

Philadelphia,  May,  18G9. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1869,  by 
WILLIAM  S.   EENTOUL, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


THE  SONG  OF  SOLOMON 


IN  FIVE  CANTICLE8. 


The  Song  of  Songs,  of  Solomon. 


CANTICLE  I. 

(Chap.  i.  2.— Chap.  ii.  7.) 
Subject. — The  Bride  Seeking  and  Finding  the  King. 


The  Anointed  King : — His  Kiss — His 
Love — His  Name — His  Chambers. 

1  With  kisses  of  his  mouth 

Let  Him  me  fondly  kiss! 
For  better  is  Thy  love  than  wine; 
More  grateful  far  it  is. 

2  Because  of  savour  good 

Thy  precious  ointments  prove, 
Thy  name is-Ointment poured  forth: 
Hence  Thee  the  virgins  love. 

3  Me  draw !  thee  to  o'ertake 

Right  gladly  run  will  we : 
The  King  into  his  chambers  hath 
Me  brought,  his  bride  to  be. 

4  In  Thee  will  we  be  glad, 

And  joy  all  joys  above ; 
We  more  than  wine  thy  love  regard : 
The  upright  ones  Thee  love. 


The  Bride's  Portrait  of  Herself :— The 
Tents  of  Kedar,  and  Curtains  of  Solo- 
mon—  The  Sun-burnt  Slave-girl. 

5  I  black  yet  comely  am, 

Ye  Salem's  daughters,  know: 

Dark  as  the  tents  of  Kedar;  fair 

As  Solomon's  curtains  show. 

6  O  look  not  on  my  face ; 

It  black  and  swart  is  turned : 
Because  the  sun  hath  looked  on  me, 
My  skin  is  parched  and  burned. 

7  Displeased  and  chafed  with  me 

My  mother's  children  were : 
To  keep  the  vineyards  me  they  set ; 
Mine  own  not  kept  with  care! 

The  Shepherd  whom  the  Soul  lovcth : — • 
His  Pasture  and  Noontide  Rest —  The 


*  See  Exposition,  p.  3. 


METRICAL    VERSION    OF 


[chap,  I.-II. 


Footsteps  of  the  Flock,  and  Feeding- 
Place  of  the  Kids. 

8  Tell  me,  Love  of  my  soul! 

Where  Thou  thy  flock  dost  tend : 
Tell  me  thy  place  of  noon-tide  rest, 
That  thither  I  may  wend! 

9  For  why,  O  why,  should  I 

My  footsteps  turn  aside 
To  follow  thy  companions'  flocks, 
And  by  their  tents  abide? 

10  Now  if  thou  dost  not  know, 

Of  women  thou  most  fair! 
Go,  trace  the  footsteps  of  the  flock; 

See  where  their  footprints  are. 

m 

11  I  charge  thee  thus  go  forth, 

And  lead  thy  kids  with  thee. 
And  feed  them  near  the  shepherds' 
Let  this  thine  answer  be.    [tents: 

The  Chariots  of  Pharaoh— The  Chains 
of  Gold — The  Beautiful  Crown. 

12  O  thou  my  Love!  behold 

I  have  thee  likened  most 
To  prancing  chariot-horses  swift 
In  Pharaoh's  mighty  host. 

13  Thy  cheeks,  they  comely  are 

With  rows  of  jewels  bright; 
Thy  neck,  it  beauteous  also  is, 
With  chains  of  gold  bedigbt. 

14  For  thee  we  now  will  make 

A  golden-circled  crown 
With  silver  studs,  thy  head  to  grace 
And  speak  thy  Lord's  renown.* 
or, 
14  [For  thee  we  now  will  make 
A  golden-circled  crown 
With  studs  of  silver,  thee  to  grace 
And  spread  thy  fair  renown.] 


The  Sp  ikenard  at  the  Feast —  The  Myrrh 
in  the  Bosom — The  Camphire  in  the 
Vineyard. 

15  While  at  his  table  sits 

The  King,  with  banquet  spread, 
My  spikenard  doth  on  all  around 
Its  fragrant  odours  shed. 

16  A  bunch  of  Myrrh  to  me 

Is  my  belov'd  most  dear: 
Within  my  bosom  it  shall  rest, 
Through  darksomenightto  cheer. 

17  To  me  my  vvell-belov'd 

Like  to  a  cluster  shows 
Of  fragrant  camphire,  which  within 
En-gedi's  vineyards  grows. 

The  Green  couch  of  the  Shepherd  King. 

18  How  fair  art  thou,  my  Love! 

Most  fair !  with  eyes  of  doves. — 
Behold  thou  'rt  fair!  my  loved  one; 
Yea  pleasant  in  thy  loves. 

ly  Also  our  couch  is  green  ; 

Our  house,  its  beams  are  made 
Of  goodly  cedar ;  and  with  fir 
Our  galleries  are  laid. 

The  Pose  of  Sharon — The  Lily  among 
Thorns — The  Apple-tree  in  the  Wood. 

20  Lo !  I  am  Sharon's  Rose, 

And  th'  Lily  of  the  vales. — 

As  blooms  the  lily  midst  the  thorns, 

And  sweetest  scent  exhales; 

21  So  is  my  Love  amid 

The  daughters'  num'rous  throng. 
As  th'  apple-tree  'mong  trees,  so  is 
My  Loved  one  sons  among. 

22  Beneath  his  pleasant  shade 

Delighted  I  did  rest; 
And  the  fair  fruit  upon  his  boughs 
Was  sweet  unto  my  taste. 


That  is,  it  was  a  nuptial  crown— see  Stuart's  Exposition  in  locum. 


CHAP.  II.] 


THE   SONG    OF   SOLOMON. 


Tlie   Banquet-hall: — The    Banner   of 
Love — The  Banquet  of  Wine — Tlie 
Hands  of  the  King — The  Hinds  of 
the  Field. 
23  He  to  his  banquet-house 

In  kindness  did  me  bring  ; 

And  over  me  his  banner,  Love, 

In  "-raceful  folds  did  flint?. 


23  [He  to  hib  banquet-hall 

In  kindness  hath  me  led  ; 
And  his  unchanging  love  hath 

placed 
•For  banner  o'er  my  head.] 

24  With  flagons  filled  with  wine 


0  stay  my  swooning  soul ! 
With  apples  comfort  me!  through 

I'm  faint  and  sick  withal,      [love 

25  Beneath  my  fainting  head 

His  left  hand  he  doth  place; 
While  his  right  hand  encircles  me 
Within  his  fond  embrace. 

26  Ye  Salem's  daughters,  hear! 

1  give  you  solemn  charge: 
Ev'n  by  the  roes  and  by  the  hinds 

That  roam  the  field  at  large 

27  I  charge  you,  stir  not  up 

Nor  rudely  wake  my  Love; 
Do  not  disturb  his  rest,  until 
Himself  be  pleased  to  move! 


CANTICLE  II. 

(Chap.    ii.  8.  —  Chap.   hi.  5.) 

Subject. — The  Sleeping  Bride  Aavaked. 


The  Roe  upon  the  Mountains — The 
Glimpse  through  the  Lattice. 

1  Hark !  My  beloved's  voice  I  hear ! 

Behold  he  com  es !  he  comes  to  me ; 
Leaping  upon  the  mountains  high ; 
Skipping  upon  the  hills  so  free! 

2  He  's  like  a  roe  or  a  young  hart: 

Lo!  now  behind  our  wall  he's  seen ; 
Now  through  the  windows  doth  he 
look, 

Showing  himself  through  lattice- 
screen. 

The  Garden  of  Flowers — The  Song  of 
Birds — T'he  Voice  of  the  Turtle. 

3  Thus  to  me  my  Beloved  spoke; 

Rise  up,  my  Love,  my  fairest  one ! 

Come  forth  with  me;  for  winter's 

The  rain  is  oyer  and  is  gone;  [past; 


4  The  lovely  flowers  on  earth  appefii-: 

The  singing  time  of  birds  is  come ; 
The  turtle's  voice  is  heard  again, 
Again  he  makes  our  land  his  home. 

5  The  fig-tree  her  green  figs  puts  forth ; 

The  vines  with  tender  grapes 

smell  sweet ; 
Arise,  my  Love!  my  fiiir  One,  come! 
Come  forth  with  me  the  spring  to 

greet ! 

The  Dove  in  tJie  Clefts  of  the  Rock  {or, 
Christ  Comforting  his  Afflicted  Church) 
—  The  Foxes  that  Spoil  the  Virics. 

6  O  mysweetDove!  that hidst thyself 

Now  in  the  rock's  deep  clefts,  anon 
In  secret  caves  of  mountain  crags, 
Afiiicted,  desolate,  and  lone ; 


'6 


METRICAL    VERSION    OF 


[CHAr,  ii.-iir. 


7  0  let  me  see  thy  countenance. 
And  let  me  hear  thy  plaintive 
voice ; 
For  sweet  thy  voice,  and  fair  thy  face: 
Come  forth  and  cause  my  heart 
rejoice  I 

S  The  wily  foxes  take  for  us, 

Nor  let  the  little  foxes  'scape. 
For  they  the  vines  despoil :  for  now 
Our  vines  put  forth  the  tender 
gra])e. 

The  Bride's  interest  In  her  absent  Lord 
— The  Bride  longing  for  break  of  Day. 
9  My  well-beloved  One  is  mine 

And  I  am  his — ^his  darling  one: 
He  'mong  the  lilies  feeds  his  flock, 
Defends,  and  guides  them,  as  his 
own. 

or, 

9  [My  well-beloved  One  is  mine. 

And  I  am  his,  his  darling  spouse : 
Among  the  beauteous  lilies  he 
Delights  to  feed  and  loves  to 
browse.] 

10  Till  day  shall  break  )  and  sha- 
[or,]  While  breaks  the  day*  j  dowsflee, 

Return,  my  loved  One,  and  be  thou 
Like  to  a  roe  or  a  young  hart 
On  Bether's  hills  of  rocky  brow ! 

The  Midnight  Search—  The  King  found, 
and  Conducted  Home. 

1 1  By  night,  Avhile  on  my  couch  I  lay. 


I  sought  Hiin  whom  my  soul  doth 
love ; 
Besought  and  prayed  his  quick  re- 
turn— 
In  vain,  alas!  my  call  did  prove. 

12  Now  will  I  rise  and  thread,  said  I, 

The  city's  streets;  its  ways  ex- 
l)lore ; 
To  seek  the  darling  of  my  soul — 
In  vain ! — will  he  be  found  no 
more? 

13  But  while  my  fruitless  search  I 

pressed, 
I  met  the  watchmen  of  the  night: 
To  whom  I  said — Saw  ye  my  Love? 
O  have  you  seen  my  soul's  deligh  i? 

14  1  passed  them  but  a  little  way, 

When  lo !  I  found  my  darling 


spouse 


I  held  him;  would  not  let  him  go; 
But  brought  him  to  my  mother's 
house. 

15  Ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem ! 

Now  list  and  ponder  this  my 
charge ! 
Even  by  the  wild  and  timorous  roes 
And  hinds,  that  roam  the  field 
at  large, 

16  I  charge  you  that  ye  stir  not  up, 

Nor  break  theslumbers  ofmy  love! 
Do  not  disturb  his  sweet  repose. 
Until  himself  be  pleased  to  move ! 


CANTICLE  III. 

(Chap.  hi.  6.  —  v.  1.) 

Subject.— TiiK  Bridegroom  with  the  Bride. 

The  Bridal  Froccssion: — The  Pillars  j  — The  King's  Chariot — The  Crotvn  of 
in  the  Desert —  The  Angelic  Swordmen  \      Espousal. 


*  See  Note  on  this  verse,  in  Appendix  of  the  Exposition. 


CHAP.  III.-IV.]  THE   SONG   OF   SOLOMON. 


1  Lo!  Who*  is  this  who  comes 

Up  from  the  desert  drear  ; 
While  in  his  princely  train 

Pillars  of  smoke  appear ; 
Perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankin- 
,  cense, 

All  odours  merchant-men  dispense? 

2  Behold  his  palanquin — 

'Tis  Solomon's,  Prince  of  Peace ! 
Three  scores  of  valiant  men 

To  guard  it  do  not  cease : 
Threescore  of  the  most  valiant  ones, 
Chosen  from  Israel's  warrior  sons. 

3  Sword'bearei-s  all  they  are, 

In  war  expert  and  skilled  ; 
His  sword  upon  his  thigh 

Each  wears,  prepared  to  wield 
His  weai^on  for  his  King's  just  right, 
In  case  of  sudden  fear  by  night. 

4  King  Solomon  for  himself 

A  fitting  chariot  made ; 
Of  choicest  cedar- wood 

From  Lebanon's  leafy  shade ; 
Its  pillars  purest  silver  showed. 
Its  seat  was  made  of  burnished  gold. 

5  Of  princely  purple  hue 

Its  covering  above  ; 
While,  lo !  the  midst  thereof 

Was  wholly  paved  with  love 
For  th'  daughters  of  Jerusalem — 
For  such  as  fear  and  love  his  Name. 

G  Ye  Zion's  daughters!  now 
Go  forth,  the  King  to  see, 
Ev'n  Solomon,  with  the  crown 

Of  glorious  majesty. 
Placed  by  his  mother  on  his  head 
That  nuptial  day  his  heart  was  glad. 

Portrait  of  the  Bride  by  the  King: — 
The  Spotless  Bride—The  Doves'  Eyes 
—  The  Goats  on  the  Mountain — The 
Sheep  from   the  River — The  Scarlet 


Fillet — The  Brohen  Pomeyranate — 
The  Tower  of  Armoury — The  Tu:in 

PiOes. 

7  Lo!  thou  art  fair,  my  Love! 

Most  beauteous  and  most  fair! 
Thine  eyes  like  eyes  of  doves 

Within  tliy  locks  appear : 
As  goats  on  Gilcad's  mount  are  seen, 
Such  is  thy  flowing  hair,  I  ween. 

8  Thy  teeth  like  sheep  smooth-shorn, 

Just  washed  in  streamlet  bright ; 
Each  of  them  beareth  twins. 

Most  seemly  to  the  sight; 
None  barren  nor  bereaved  is  there. 
But  all  well-matched  and  lustrous 
are. 

9  Thy  finely  chiselled  lips 

Are  like  a  scarlet  tliread; 
How  comely  is  thy  speecli ! 

Thy  temples,  overspread 
By  thy  fair  locks,  a  modest  glow. 
Like  grained  pomegranate  broken, 
show. 

10  Thy  neck  like  David's  tow'r 

Built  for  an  armoury  ; 
A  thousand  bucklers  stout. 

Trophies  of  victory. 
Upon  it  hang — a  glorious  sight ! 
All  of  them  shields  of  men  of  might. 

11  Thy  graceful-swelling  breasts 

With  two  twin-roes  compare ; 
In  form  and  youthful  grace 

Exactly  matched  which  are; 
Among  the  lilies  fair  they  feed, 
That  shed  their  beauties  o'er  the 
mead. 

The  Bridal  Evening  :—The  Bride- 
groom's Farewell — The  Garden  of 
Spices — The  Spnccs  of  the  Garden — 
The  Betrothing  Supper. 

12  Until  the  day  shall  break 


*0r,  What  and  Who?  See  Note  in  the  Appendix  of  the  Exposition. 


SrETRTCAL   VEESIOX   OP 


[chap.  IV.-Y. 


And  darkling  shades  flee  hence, 
To  th'  mount  of  myrrh  I'll  go, 

And  hill  of  frankincense: — 
Lo!  thou  art  fair,  my  Love  !  all  fair! 
No  spot  thy  comeliness  doth  mar! 

13  From  Lebanon,  Come,  my  Spouse! 
With  me,  from  Liban  white: 
Look  from  Amana's  top, 

Shenir's  and  Hermon's  hight: 
Where  rav'ning  lions'  dens  abound, 
And  prowling  leopards'  haunts  are 
found. 

14-  0  thou,  ray  Sister-Spouse! 

Thou  ravished  hast  my  heart; 
One  of  thy  suppliant  eyes 
My  soul,  as  with  a  dart. 
Hath  overcome;  one  chain  of  gold 
Of  thy  neck,  doth  me  captive  hold. 

15  How  precious  is  thy  love, 

My  Sister-Spouse,  to  me ! 
"Tls  better  far  than  wine 

Though  newly  pressed  it  be: 
The  odours  of  thine  ointments,  more 
Than  spices  all,  I  hold  in  store. 

16  Like  honey-comb,  my  Spouse! 

Thy  lips  drop  words  of  grace; 
While  underneath  thy  tongue 
1         Honey  and  milk  have  place : 
Tiiy  garments  grateful  odours  shed, 
Like  scent  by  fragrant  Lebanon 
sj^read. 

17  A  garden  that 's  inclosed. 

My  Sister-Spouse !  come,  see ! 
"Whence  streams  shall  issue  forth, 

Imparting  life  to  thee: 
A  spring  shut  up  and  unrevealed; 
A  fountain  now  securely  sealed.* 

18  Thy  plants,  my  Sister-Spouse! 

That  in  this  garden  grow 
Are  now  all  fully  ripe, 


With  beauty  all  aglow: 
Pomegranates  red,  of  grateful  zest ; 
With  all  fruits  pleasant  to  the  taste. 

19  Camphire  and  spikenard  there, 

And  saffron,  sweets  dispense; 
With  calamus,  cinnamon, 

All  trees  of  frankincense; 
There,  too,  are  myrrh  and  aloes 
found; 
Yea,  there  all  spices  choice  abound. 

20  A  life-restoring  fount 

Forth  from  this  garden  flows ; 
A  well  of  living  streams 

Its  pleasant  glades  disclose ; 
Refreshing  to  each  weary  one, 
As  streams  from  snow-capped  Le- 
banon. 

21  Awake,  O  north-wind!  wake, 

Upon  my  garden  blow  ; 
And  come,  thou  genial  south! 

And  cause  its  spices  flow: — 
Let  my  Beloved  now  make  haste, 
And  to  his  garden  come,  and  taste 
His  pleasant  fruits,  before  they 
waste ! 

22  Into  my  garden,  lo. 

My  Sister-Spouse,  I'm  come ! 
]My  myrrh  I  gathered  have. 

My  spices  I've  brought  home: 
The  honeycomb  supplied  my  food. 
With  honey  dropping  from  the 
wood.f 

23  My  wine  I've  also  drunk, 

My  wine  and  milk— for  thee ; 
Eat,  then,  O  ye  my  friends ! 

Thus  show  your  love  for  me : 
Drink,  O  belov'd!   this  bridal  wine; 
Drink  freely,  for  it  seals  you  mine; 
Yea,  drink  abundantly— it  seals  lie 
thine ! 


■>^See  Matt,  xxvii.  GO,  66;  also  the  Exposition. 
t  See  1  Samuel  xiv.  20. 


CHAP,  v.] 


THE   SONG   OF   SOLOMON. 


% 


CANTICLE  IV. 

(Chap.   v.  2.  —  Chap.   viii.  4.j 
Subject.— TnB  BpacEGROOM's  tvithdeawal  and  Re-appeaeaxce;  and 

THE   bride's   glory. 


The  Night  after  Sunset: — The  Waking 
Sleep — The  Sorrowing  Search  for  the 
King. 

1  I  heavy  was  with  sleep, 

Yet  was  my  heart  awake : 
'Tis  my  Belov'd  that  knocks! 

Thus  with  his  voice  he  spake : 
'My  Sister,  ope  to  me! 

My  Love,  my  Dove,  most  chaste; 
My  head  and  locks  with  dew 

Are  filled: — come,  ope  with  haste!' 

2  Then  spoke  my  foolish  heart 

To  my  Beloved  one: 
'My  coat  I  have  put  off; 

How  shall  I  put  it  on  ? 
My  feet  I've  newly  washed. 

And  bathed  my  snowy  skin, 
I  now  my  feet  should  soil 

If  I  should  let  thee  in.' 

3  But  now  my  well-belov'd 

Put  gently  forth  his  hand 
The  fost'niug  to  unbar — 

Who  entrance  might  command! 
Then  did  my  heart  relent; 

ily  bowels  for  him  yearned  : 
I  rose  to  ope  for  Him 

I  had  so  coldly  spurned. 

4  And  lo !  while  I  the  bolt 

Was  hast'ning  to  undo. 
My  hands  with  fragrant  myrrh 

Did  drop,  my  fingers  too : 
The  handles  of  the  lock 

Were  with  its  sweets  bedewed — 
Fit  emblem  of  that  love 

Which  now  my  soul  imbued. 


5  I  oped  to  my  Belov'd — 

But  my  Belov'd  was  gone! 
Displeased,  he  had  withdrawn. 

And  left  me  all  alone! 
I  listened  for  his  voice 

With  trembling  soul — in  vain ! 
In  vain  I  searched  and  called ; 

He  answered  not  again ! 

6  While  my  Belov'd  I  sought. 

The  city's  watch  me  found; 
They  grievously  me  smote, 

And  sorely  did  me  wound: 
The  keepers  of  the  walls 

With  mocking  did  me  hail ; 
They  falsely  me  reproached, 

And  tore  away  my  veil. 

7  Ye  Salem's  daughters,  hark ! 

Now  list  ye  while  I  speak: 
If  my  Belov'd  ye  find 

Whom  in  distress  I  seek; 
I  charge  you  thus  for  me 

Your  love  and  kindness  prove* — 
O  tell  my  well-belov'd 

That  I  am  sick  of  love ! 

The  Beauty  of  the  Beloved: — The  White 
and  Bed — The  Chieftainship — The 
most  fine  Gold — The  Eaven^ s  plumes 
— The  Doves  by  the  Waters — The 
Aromatic  Flowers — Tlie  Lilies — The 
Gold  Rings — The  bright  Ivory — The 
Marble  Pillars — Lebanon  and  its  Ce- 
dars—  Tlie  Sweetness — And  entire 
Loveliness. 

8  Tell  us,  we  thee  beseech, 

Of  women  thou  most  fair! 


•i"MO 


METRICAL   VERSIOX   OF 


rCIIAP.  V.-VI. 


What  is  thy  well-belov'd 
More  than  all  others  are? 

What  more  is  thy  Belov'd 
Than  others  that  are  dear, 

That  thus  thou  dost  us  charge 
Should  he  to  us  apj^ear? 

9  O  would  ye  also  know 

Him  whom  my  soul  doth  love; 
And  why  he  is  to  me 

So  dear  all  else  above? 
My  well-belov'd  is  white 

Commixed  with  ruddy  glow  : 
Among  ten  thousand  chiefs 

The  chiefest  He,  I  trow. 

10  His  head  is  finest  gold; 

And  bushy  are  his  locks: 
His  black  and  glossy  hair 

The  raven's  plumage  mocks : 
His  eyes  as  ring-doves  gleam 

While  they  in  streamlet  lave ; 
Milk-washed  and  fitly  set, 

Like  doves  'mid  Si^arkling  wave. 

11  Like  banks  of  flowers  his  cheeks, 

Which  shed  a  rich  perfume; 
Like  towering  trellises 

Of  flowers  in  beauteous  bloom*: 
His  lips  like  lilies  are 

Of  brightest  crimson  hue ; 
They  droj)  with  fragrant  myrrh, 

Eefreshing  as  the  dew. 

12  His  hands  are  covered  o'er 

With  rings  of  gold  most  fine 
Encasing  beryl-gems 

That  with  rare  lustre  shine: 
His  body  white  and  pure. 

Like  polished  ivory  bright: 
His  girdle  sapphires  blue. 

Most  comely  to  the  sight. 

13  His  legs  for  stable  strength 

Like  marble  pillars  show. 
On  golden  sockets  set — 


So  do  his  sandals  glow: 
Like  glorious  Lebanon 
Majestic  is  his  mien ; 
Ev'n  Lebanon  arrayed 
AVith  lofty  cedars  green. 

14  All  sweetness  is  his  mouth ; 

Grace  from  his  lips  doth  flow : 
Yea,  wholly  lovely  is 

My  well-belov'd,  I  know: — 
Ye  Salem's  daughters  kind, 

This  is  my  Friend  and  Love ; 
In  whom  my  soul  delights 

All  other  joys  above. 

The  Bridegroom'' s  Brief  Return: — The 
Morning  Twilight— Last  Portrait  oj 
the  Bride  by  the  King — The  Bride' a 
Portrait  by  the  Queens, 

15  We  pray  thee,  tell  us  now, 

Of  women  thou  most  fair! 
Unto  what  secret  rest 

Doth  thy  Belov'd  repair: 
Say,  whither  thy  Belov'd 

Hath  gone  and  turned  aside; 
For  with  thee  will  we  go, 

And  seek  him  far  and  wide. 

16  My  well-belov'd  is  now 

Down  to  his  garden  gone: 
To  smell  its  fragrant  flowers. 

And  feed  its  fruits  upon : 
There  doth  he  lilies  cull ; 

'Mong  them  he  loves  to  feed:— 
I  am  for  my  Belov'd, 

And  He  is  mine  indeed ! 

17  Thy  beauty,  O  my  Love! 

With  beauteous  Tirzah  vies: 
Like  lovely  Salem  thou 

Art  comely  in  mine  eyes: 
As  when  an  armed  host 

Its  banners  both  display, 
So  thou  the  foe  dost  strike 

With  terror  and  dismav. 


'  See  Burrowes'  translation  and  Com.  in  locum. 


cuAP.  vr.  VII. 


THE  SONG   OF   SOLOMON. 


11 


ISO  turn  tliine  eyes  from  me, 

For  o'er  me  they  prevail ! 
Thy  hair  is  like  the  goats 

From  Gilead  mount  that  hail : 
With  flocks  of  sheep  new-washed 

Thy  pearly  teeth  compare ; 
Each  of  them  beareth  twins, 

And  none  bereaved  is  there. 

19  Thy  temples'  modest  blush 

Between  thy  locks  is  seen, 
Like  grained  pomegranate's  glow 

When  it  hath  broken  been. 
Thrice  twenty  queens  there  are, 

With  princesses  a  throng — 
Fourscore — of  lesser  rank. 

And  countless  virgins  young: 

20  But  lo  !  my  Spouse  is  one, 

My  dove,  my  undefiled ; 
Her  mother's  darling  she. 

Her  choice,  her  only  child : 
The  virgins  her  beheld 

And  blessings  on  her  shed; 
The  queens  and  princesses 

Her  praise  abroad  did  spread. 

ni  Oh,  who  is  she,  say  they. 

That  looketh  forth  as  morn : 
Fair  as  the  silv'ry  moon 

Whose  beams  the  night. adorn; 
Clear  as  the  radiant  sun 

Diffusing  purest  light; 
Dazzling  like  heav'nly  hosts 

With  starry  banners  bright? 

Tlie  Gxirdcn  of  Nuts— The  Chariots  of 

Ammi-nadib — The  two  Armies. 
22  To  the  nut-garden  I 

Went  down  to  gather  fruits ; 
To  view  the  valley  plants 

Put  forth  their  verdant  shoots : 
To  see  if  budding  vines 

Bespoke  the  opening  year; 
Whether  pomegranate  blooms 
Betokened  spring-time  near. 


23  The  while  its  nuts  I  culled 

And  marked  these  signs  of  sprint 
Before  I  was  aware 

My  soul  was  on  the  wing: 
I  suddenly  was  set 

On  chariots  swift  and  strong, 
Ev'n  of  Ammi-nadib — 

The  King's  angelic  throng.- 

24  Return,  O  Shulamite! 

Return !  return !  they  cry ; 
Ev'n  Salem's  daughters,  while 
'  My  soul  did  mount  on  high 
Return  to  us,  return. 
That  we  may  look  on  thee ! — 
In  th'  Shulamite,  lo!  what? 
Two  hostile  hosts  vou'll  see! 


Portrait  of  the  Prince's  Daughter: —  Th  e 
Beautiful  Shoes — The  well-set  Jewels 
— The  Goblet  not  wanting  Wine — 
The  Wheat  railed  with  Lilies — The 
Twin  Boes — The  Tower  of  Ivory — 
The  Fish-pools  of  Hcshbon — The 
Toiver  of  Lebanon — Garmel — The 
Purple — The  Galleries. 

25  How  beauteous  are  thy  feet, 

In  glitt'ring  sandals  seen, 
0  prince's  daughter  fair ! — 

Thy  jewelled  zone,  I  ween, 
Which  all  thy  vests  unites 

In  one  compacted  band, 
How  skilfully  't  is  wrought 

By  cunning  workman's  hand ! 

26  Thy  girdle-clasp  appears 

Like  to  a  goblet  round 
Well-filled  with  choicest  wine 

With  mantling  rubies  crowned: 
Thy  broidered  vesture  fine. 

Of  golden  tissue  bright. 
Is  like  a  heap  of  wheat 

Railed  round  with  lilies  white. 


Acts  ii.  1-4. 


12 


METRICAL   VERSION   OF  [CHAP.  VII.-VIII. 


27  Thy  graceful  breasts  appear 

Like  two  twin  beauteous  roes ; 
Thy  free  and  stately  neck, 

Like  ivory  tov/er  it  shows: 
As  Heshbon's  fish-pools  deep 

Hard  by  Bath-rabbim's  gate, 
So  do  thy  clear,  full  eyes 

Eeflect  thy  heavenly  state. 

23  Like  Lebanon's  border  tow'r 
Damascus-ward  that  looks, 
Is  thy  intrepid  face 

No  enemy  which  brooks : 
Like  Carmel's  gorgeous  mount 
Thy  head-dress  on  thy  head. 
Its  glittering  jewels  bright 
Their  various  colours  shed. 

29  Thy  lovely  golden  hair 

Which  doth  thy  head  adorn 
With  purple  drops  is  stained, 

Like  crown  by  martyr  worn : — 
Lo !  how  the  king,  detained 

In  th'  galleries,  doth  gaze ; 
Charmed  with  his  fixithful  spouse. 

Held  captive  with  amaze ! 

The  Betrothing  of  Jerusalem^ s  Dauqh- 
ters:—ThePalm-  Tree—  The  Wineihal 
awakes  the  Sleeping. 

30  How  beautiful  thou  art, 

O  loved  and  loving  one! 
How  pleasant  for  delights; 

The  graces  all  thine  own! 
Like  upright,  stately  palm 

Thy  stature  and  thy  mien ; 
And  like  its  clusters  ripe 

Thy  full-formed  breasts  are  seen . 

31  Lo  now,  resolved,  I  said 

I'll  to  the  palm-tree  go; 
I'll  clasp  its  fruitful  boughs, 

Its  precious  fruits  will  know  : 
Now  are  thy  swelling  breasts 

Like  clusters  of  the  vine; 
Like  fragrant  citrons  sweet 

Thy  breath,  of  scent  divine. 


32  And  from  thy  palate  forth 

Flows  thy  melodious  voice. 
Like  wine  for  My  Belov'd, 

The  purest  and  most  choice, 
WJiich  freely  forth  is  poured 

For  fainting  souls  and  v.'eak, 
Causing  their  sleeping  lips 

Gently  to  move  and  speak. 

The  Seal  of  Espousal — The  Garden  in 
the  Fields — The  very  Brother. 

33  I  my  Beloved's  am. 

And  his  desire  am  I: — 
Come  now,  my  well-belov'd  ! 

To  th'  country  let  us  hie : 
Let  us  go  forth,  and  midst 

The  villages  abide : 
To  th'  vineyards  let  us  speed 

At  early  morning  tide. 

34  There  let  us  view  the  vines, 

If  yet  their  buds  appear ; 
Whether  the  tender  grape 

Bespeaks  the  coming  year; 
If  the  pomegranates  green 

Their  crimson  blooms  display : 
There  I'll  give  thee  my  loves 

In  converse  by  the  way. 

35  Lo,  there  the  choicest  flowers* 

Their  fragrant  odours  shed, 
And  at  our  gates  in  store 

All  pleasant  fruits  are  laid : 
Ripe  fruits,  both  new  and  old, 

AVhich  I  have  kept  for  thee, 
O  my  Beloved  One  ! 

Who  art  so  dear  to  me. 

36  O  that  thou  wert  to  me 

Ev'n  as  a  brother  near. 
That  sucked  one  mother's  Ijreasts, 

Me  to  protect  and  cheer! 
When  thee  I  found  abroad 

I'd  openly  thee  kiss, 
And  none  could  blame  impute. 

Or  say  I  did  amiss. 


?ee  Burrowes'  Translation  and  Commentary, 


CHAP.  VIIL]  the   song    OF   SOLOMON. 


13 


Yea,  I  would  thee  conduct 

Into  my  mother's  house, 
Where  thou  would'st  me  instruct, 

My  loving,  tender  Sjiouse ! 
There  would  I  cause  thee  drink 

My  grateful  sjiiced  wine ; 
And  my  pomegranate  juice, 

The  choicest,  should  be  thine. 


38  His  left  hand,  to  support. 

Beneath  my  head  should  be; 
The  while  his  right  hand  should 

Embrace  and  comfort  me : — 
Ye  Salem's  daughters,  hark  I 

Do  not  disturb  nor  break 
The  rest  of  my  Belov'd, 

Till  he  be  pleased  to  wake! 


CANTICLE  V. 

Chap.   viii.  5-14.) 
Subject. — The  Little  Sister. 


The  Relying  Weakness — Its  Signet-like 
Adhesion — lis  Death-like  Strength 
and  Grave-like  Cruelty — Its  Vehe- 
ment Flame  and  Quenchless  Fire — 
Its  Priceless  Worth. 

1  Lol  Who  is  this  who  comes 

Up  through  the  wild's  rough 

On  her  Beloved  One  [scenes; 

Who  trusting  leans! 

2  Under  the  citron-tree 

Thee  gently  I  did  raise. 
There  thee  thy  mother  bore 
In  gracious  days.* 

3  O  set  me  as  a  seal 

Thy  loving  heart  upon ; 
A  seal  upon  thine  arm. 
My  Loved  One! 

4  For  strong  as  death  is  love; 

Relentless  as  the  grave 
Is  jealousy — from  which 
No  arm  can  save  ; 


5  Its  ardent,  flaming  zeal 

Is  as  hot  coals  of  fire : 
'T  is  like  the  lightning-flash 
Of  God's  own  ire.f 

6  No  waters  love  can  quench, 

However  great  they  be ; 

No  floods  can  love  o'erwhelm 

In  the  deep  sea. 

7  Though  one  would  give  for  love 

His  treasured  hoard  most  prized, 
Ev'n  all  his  wealth ;  it  would 
Be  quite  despised. 

The  Closing  Song—The  Little  Sister — 
The  Vi7ieyard  Transferred —  The  Last 
of  the  Four  Mountains. 

8  We  have  a  sister  young ; 

No  mother's  breasts  hath  she: 
No  children  dandled  are 
Upon  her  knee.  J 


*This  latter  clause  is  addressed  to  Christ  by  the  Bride,  the  church,  and 
refers  to  his  incarnation  for  her  salvation ;  while  the  former  clause  of  the 
stanza  is  spoken  by  Christ  to  the  church,  and  has  reference  to  his  manifes- 
tations of  love  to  her.  The  apple  or  citron  tree  is,  throughout  the  Song,  an 
emblem  of  love.  (See  Fausset's  Com.  in  locum.) 

t  'The  fire-flame  of  God.'— 0/rf  Translation. 

I  Isaiah  Ixvi.  12. 


14 


METRICAL   VERSIOX. 


[chap.  VIII. 


9  What  shall  we  do  for  her 
In  her  betrothal  day, 
When  spoke  for  she  shall  be? 
We  pray  thee,  say. 

10  Now,  if  she  be  a  wall 

Upon  it  will  we  build 

Turrets  of  silver,  which 

Adornment  yield. 

11  And  if  a  door,  we  will 

Inclose  that  palace  gate 
With  during  cedar  boards 
Of  princely  state.* 

12  A  palace  wall  am  I; 

My  breasts  like  turrets  round : 
Then  with  Him  I  was  one 
That  favour  found. 

13  In  Baal-hamon  hath 

King  Solomon,  Prince  of  Peace, 
A  goodly  vineyard,  leased. 
To  yield  increase, 

14  To  keepers;  every  one 

Was  for  the  fruit  to  bring 


A  thousand  silver  pieces 
To  the  kii]g. 

15  My  vineyard,  even  mine, 

Will  all  my  care  receive; 
Thou  Shalt,  O  Solomon  ! 

Thy  thousand  have: 

16  While  those  its  fruits  who  keep 

Shall  have,  for  their  just  share, 
Two  hundred  pieces,  to 
Reward  their  care. 

17  O  thou,  my  Bride!  who  dost 

Within  the  gardens  dwell ; 
And  who  their  flowers  and  fruits 
Dost  tend  so  well ; 

18  The  true  companions  hark 

And  to  thy  voice  give  ear: 
Cause  Me  to  hear  it  too — 
In  prayer  sincere! 

19  Make  haste,  my  well-belov'd ! 

As  a  roe  or  young  hart  be ; 
From  th'  spicy  mountains  haste 
And  come  for  me  I  f 


Psalm  cxliv.  12. 


t  Rev.  xxii.  20. 


THE   KND. 


BS1485  .S929 

The  song  of  songs :  exposition  of  the 

Princeton  Theological  Semmary-Speer  Library 


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